Throw It All Away
by SnarkyFanGirl
Summary: Ginny has had feelings for Harry for as long as she can remember. One summer, she decides to take things into her own hands and find out if she's really in love with him, or if it's just an infatuation. She gets her answer - but it's not what she expects
1. Chapter 1

_"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within." ~ James Baldwin_

Things had spiraled out of control.

She didn't know what had happened to herself. She had originally started watching Draco Malfoy out of sheer, morbid curiosity. She'd only wanted to know what Parvati and Lavender kept giggling and gossiping about. She heard whispers late at night, when they thought she was sleeping.

Poor Ginny Weasley, the ickle sixth year. What would she understand about yearning; lusting after a boy who gave absolutely no indication that he even knew she existed?

She knew plenty about it.

For years, she had lusted after Harry._ Lusted._ She had thought about it all summer; her obsession with him. When he'd finally come to spend the last week of the summer at the Burrow, she'd come to the painful realization that she was going to have to make the first move, if anything was going to happen between them. At the time, planning the seduction of The Boy Who Lived had seemed like the most natural thing in the world for her to do.

She'd only had to wait for two days before the perfect opportunity presented itself. Harry had been involved in a lively impromptu Quidditch match with Ron, Fred, George, Bill, and Ginny herself, when he'd made a dive to catch the snitch, and subsequently met the ground with his forehead. Hard.

The boys hadn't fussed over him at all; they'd simply ordered Ginny to take him inside and look after him until Molly returned from running her errands. Ginny had stomped into the house at the time, feigning anger, but she had been secretly delighted. It presented her with an excuse to put her plan into action.

She'd helped Harry up to his and Ron's bedroom, and helped him lie down. She removed his shoes and socks with the excuse that she wanted him to relax totally, then she fetched a headache potion from her Mum's secret stores and gave it to a very sweaty, very grateful, very all-around-appealing Harry.

Once she'd disposed of the empty potion vial, she turned to him and eyed him thoughtfully. He saw the strange glimmer in her eyes and wondered at it. He frowned.

'Is everything alright, Gin?'

'No,' she said simply. He waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he propped himself up on his elbows and stared openly at her.

'What's wrong?'

'I was wondering if you could do something for me, Harry.' He nodded quickly, and for a very brief moment, she almost felt bad for playing on his altruistic tendencies. Almost. Maybe she would've felt more guilt if he hadn't kept her waiting for so long. She stood and pointed her wand at the door.

'_Colloportus.'_ The loud squelching sound signaled that her spell had worked. Harry blinked and suddenly looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She turned back to him and pulled her hair out of its loose ponytail, letting the crimson locks spill down around her shoulders. He gasped audibly as she lifted her t-shirt over her head to reveal a simple white cotton bra beneath.

'Uh, Gin,' he said, unable to look away.

'Yes, Harry?' Off went her shoes and socks, kicked to a random corner of the room.

'What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing?' his voice was amazingly calm for someone who was shaking so badly.

'Getting undressed,' she retorted calmly. She pulled her denim shorts off and Harry found himself staring at her white cotton knickers. Simple, unremarkable white cotton.

Harry seemed to have misplaced his voice as she made her way over to him and tugged upwards on the hem of his t-shirt.

He should have kicked and screamed.

He should have struggled.

He should have done anything but what he did – nothing.

He raised his arms and let her pull his shirt over his head, then felt an odd tremor of mingled horror and anticipation as she fumbled with the zipper of his shorts. A few deft movements on his part, and his clothing was totally gone. She met his eyes fearlessly with her own as she unclasped her bra and slid it over her arms. She hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and removed them.

For several long moments, she and Harry sat regarding each other with open curiosity. Without thinking about it, she reached out and touched light fingertips to his thigh. He let out a low hiss, and she lifted her eyes back to his.

She leaned forward and kissed his neck, feeling the soft stubble on his chin graze against her skin. He raised his fingers and tangled them clumsily in her hair as she kissed down his neck, then across his collarbone, and then down his bared chest. Her curious fingers curled slowly around the heat of his erection, and he moaned.

Before she knew what was happening, he had gripped her arms and flipped her over. He trailed sloppy kisses across her jaw and down her neck, before catching a rosy nipple between his lips. She arched against him, feeling his hardness against her leg. She shifted until the tip of his shaft was pressed to the burning apex of her thighs. Before she could stop to doubt herself, she dug her heels into the small of his back and forced him inside of her.

The pain was blinding – much worse than she'd thought it would be. Tears stung her eyes. Harry, to his credit, was forcing himself to remain still. He was biting his lip so hard that she could see him drawing blood. When the pain finally subsided, she opened her eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly.

Harry began moving inside of her, slowly at first. It was strange; this feeling of being full. The friction finally got the best of her, and she was really starting to enjoy it when she saw his face tense up. Suddenly he pulled out of her, and she watched with a small amount of fascination as the white liquid spurted onto Ron's sheets.

When Harry's breathing had become somewhat normal, he realized that she was fully dressed again. She pointed her wand at Ron's bed, muttering _'Scourgify,' _at both the pool of blood she'd left behind and the mess that Harry had made.

As she was leaving the room, she dropped a small kiss on the top of his head and whispered 'Thank you.' She made her way back to her room, and realized that she finally had her answer. She knew how she felt about Harry, once and for all.

He was, quite simply, a very attractive boy that she'd tricked into deflowering her.

Dinner that night seemed like any other at the Weasley home, with everyone talking animatedly and laughing at one another. After dinner, though, she was on her way from the loo to her bedroom when she felt a hand on her arm. She turned to see a very pink-faced Harry looking intently at her.

'Uhm, Gin, can we talk?' She nodded.

'Sure.' She headed towards her room and motioned for him to follow, but turned when she didn't hear him moving behind her.

'I was hoping maybe we could go for a walk.' She shrugged and followed him, calling out to her Mum that they'd be back shortly. They walked past the garden and were quite a ways from the house when he turned on her. 'What happened between us today?' his voice was laced with anger.

'Nothing, Harry,' she said, giving him a wry smile. 'I asked you to do me a favor, and you did. Thanks.' She started to turn back, but he shot out a hand and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.

'Nothing?' he echoed, looking hurt. 'It didn't mean anything to you at all?'

'Of course it did, Harry,' she soothed, brushing raven strands away from his face. 'It meant a great deal to me.' He looked relieved.

'Oh, good, because I've been thinking about something all summer. I was going to ask you if you wanted to… erm, go out sometime?'

'On a date?'

'Well, yes and no. I want to date you, but more than just once. I want to be…" his face went scarlet, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

_Oh no. Not now. Not now that I realize that I don't like him like that – it figures that this is when he decides to make a move on me. Typical. One shag does not a boyfriend make, Harry._

'To be what?' she asked, pretending to be confused. Perhaps if she got him worked up enough, he'd lose his courage and shrug this off, as he had so many times before when she'd been alone with him.

Not bloody likely.

_Ginevra Weasley, what have you gotten yourself into this time?_

'I want to be your boyfriend,' he said quickly. He was giving her that damned green-eyed, lost puppy dog look.

It was the proverbial nail in her coffin.

She hadn't had the heart to turn him down, and had, as a result, found his arm permanently locked around her shoulders for the rest of the week. They'd even managed to sneak in a quick shag in the garden the last night there, which had terrified him and thrilled her.

The idea that they might get caught was what had ultimately given her her first orgasm.

Once they got back to Hogwarts, he managed to find ways to sneak her into his room, and into his bed. Only on the nights they did it in the common room, though, did she reach any sort of climax.

She still hadn't kissed him on the lips, but he didn't seem to notice. If he did, he never mentioned it, and it didn't seem to bother him.

That was just as well.

He'd walk through the hallways, either holding her hand, carrying her books, or with his arm locked around her waist. She tolerated these moments as best she could, feeling more and more numb every day at the lie she was getting deeper into.

Which brought her back to the present.

For weeks now, those two gossiping twits had waited until they thought she was asleep, and then the whispering would begin. Wild, frenzied fantasies were shared. And they were always about Malfoy.

They mooned over his white-blonde hair, his chiseled mouth, and his broad hands. They fantasized about opening his Quidditch uniform and inspecting the sweaty flesh beneath. All of their talk had gotten under her skin, and damnit, she wanted to know if he really looked as good as they speculated.

The only problem was Harry.

Harry, and this sham of a relationship that she had gotten herself stuck in.

The relationship that made her parents and her brothers so damned happy.

The relationship that was the toast of Hogwarts.

The relationship that was slowly sucking the life out of her.

Tonight she'd fled. She'd run away from her fellow Gryffindors, unable to stomach their adoring looks and adulating comments. Now she had sympathy for Harry – but she wasn't going to bloody well stand for it tonight. She needed a reprieve.

And that was how it happened. That was how she found herself following Draco Malfoy through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts after curfew. She was a prefect trailing the Head Boy.

And he was a nasty bugger to keep up with.

The only explanation she could muster for his speed was that he knew he was being followed, and was trying to lose her. At this point, though, she didn't much care. She almost hoped he'd turn and hurl a well-placed hex; at least that would be _something._ He rounded a corner and she followed. The hallway ahead was empty.

She took a small step forward and a pair of arms reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back against him. The heat from his chest radiated into her back. She didn't struggle, and she didn't scream.

'Why are you following me?' A low voice drawled into her ear. When she offered no answer, he spun her around to face him. 'What's the matter, Weaselette?' His eyes were glittering hatefully as he sneered at her. The look was something she welcomed – it was a stark contrast to the worshipful looks that she had been getting from everyone else.

It made her feel almost… _normal._

'Potter not satisfying you, so you came looking for a _real_ man?' She stared wordlessly at him, which only served to infuriate him more. 'Dating Potter has made you as stupid as him.' He turned to walk away, but stopped when he heard her light footsteps start up behind him. He turned on her with a vicious snarl.

'Quit following me, Weasley!' the words fell from his lips like chips of ice. She met his gaze fearlessly and remained silent. He closed the distance between them and was slightly taken aback when she didn't even flinch. 'Why are you following me? What the hell do you want? You know I'm Head Boy. I can make your life hell.'

'Go ahead and try,' she challenged flatly. His eyes narrowed.

'Asking for the big hurt, are you, then? What would Potter or the other Weasel say if they knew that the Princess of Gryffindor came looking for the King of Slytherin, and after curfew, at that?'

'Does it matter?' she shot back dully. He blinked but his sneer remained in place.

'Well, well. The Weaselette wants to raise some hell, is that it? Fine, follow me. If you want to wreak havoc, we'll wreak havoc.' He turned and moved down the hallway, fully expecting her to tuck her tail between her legs and run back to Saint Potter and his band of do-gooders.

Therefore he was utterly surprised when she fell into step beside him.

They walked together in silence until they reached the dungeon area, where he turned to her, his eyes flashing.

'Alright, whatever your game is, out with it. Why the hell are you following me like this?'

'You told me to.' He blinked.

'So now you're taking orders from me? Brilliant,' he laughed wickedly. 'What, are you besotted with me, or something? Surely Potter's pure, precious girlfriend doesn't want a taste of the dark side.'

'No,' she said simply. He stared.

'Are you under Imperious?' he asked, looking around wildly. 'Oh, okay. I get it. Very funny, Pansy, you almost had me. When is the polyjuice going to wear off?' he smirked. She stared emptily.

'Perhaps this was a mistake after all,' she said. 'You can't give me what I need any more than Harry can.' Draco did not like being told that he couldn't beat Potter at something, especially when it came to women.

'And what might that be?' he asked, pushing her up against the wall. He pinned her there by slapping his palms against the stone on either side of her head. His eyes became hooded and dangerous looking, and the tiniest tremor of anticipation went through her. Without another word, she lifted the hem of her robe. He sucked in a deep breath when he saw that she was wearing nothing underneath, and shot silvery eyes back up to hers.

'You know,' he murmured. 'If I didn't know better, I'd say I was right. Potter doesn't satisfy you, and you've come looking for a real man.' He turned her around roughly so that her cheek was up against the stones of the wall. He lifted the robe, and she felt him fumbling around for his zipper. She heard it being pulled down, and suddenly he was inside of her, thrusting roughly up into her. She bit her lip.

They were in the middle of the hallway, having very rough sex. She had never been more excited in her life. He was thrusting so hard that it was becoming painful, but she welcomed it. She wanted more of it. Pain made the numbness inside go away; it made her realize she could still feel. She felt the tension building in her abdomen, then it exploded with a burst of heat, and she uttered a soft cry. Moments later, she felt him emptying himself inside of her.

Her legs felt so weak she could hardly stand on them.

Behind her, she felt him pull away and refasten his zipper. Without another word, he took off down the hallway, and she didn't follow.

The next morning at breakfast, she went through her usual routine. She checked over her schedule for the day, made sure that her homework was done and in her bookbag, and sipped slowly at a cup of hot tea. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were engaged in a lively conversation around her, and she was praying that Harry would just forget she was even sitting there.

No such luck.

A moment after that thought, she felt his arm snake around her waist, and he nuzzled her neck softly.

'Where were you last night?' he asked gently. 'I was worried about you. Hermione said you got up and left to go to the loo, and you were gone for a while.'

'I wasn't feeling well,' she said quietly. He seemed to accept this explanation and turned back to his friends, although his arm stayed locked around her waist. She sighed and stared down at the table.

Across the room, a pair of silvery eyes focused on her.

What the hell had last night been about, anyway? He had been unbelievably turned on by her bravado. She hadn't worn any undergarments and had shown him, and then let him take her, right there in the middle of the hallway. Not even Pansy had ever been that bold.

He wanted more.

Maybe he would try to convince Pansy to go down there tonight, to that same place, and do what the Weaselette had done. He watched Potter slide a protective arm around her waist and smirked to himself._If Potter only knew that I shagged his girlfriend, and she liked it. Oh, the beautiful irony of it all._

He watched as she tried to ignore Potter, and he wondered briefly at it. Hadn't she been in love with the git since her first year? Now that she had him, maybe she didn't want him anymore. Draco nodded to himself as he went back to his breakfast. That was something he understood all too well; the thrill of the hunt. The conquest was what made it fun, and once you had what you wanted, you didn't want it anymore. The capture just wasn't as exciting as the pursuit.

He managed to convince Pansy to come to the hallway with him, and had even managed to convince her not to wear anything beneath her robes. Once he lifted them, though, and entered her, she pulled away, protesting. She had chickened out. She ran back to the Slytherin rooms and left Draco standing there with a very painful erection.

Two nights had passed before she followed him again.

He could sense her back there, in the shadows. He went back to the hallway they'd shagged in and felt wild excitement gripping him. Would she be naked again? The thought made him hard. He turned slowly, and saw that she was standing in the middle of the hallway very calmly. He moved towards her and pushed her against the wall, pinning her there again, this time with her back pressed up against it. He lifted her robes, and was delighted to find that she was, indeed, naked.

He unzipped his pants and entered her quickly, pleasure washing over him at the sensation of her walls of flesh surrounding him. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, which excited him more than he thought was possible. Pansy had always kept her eyes closed during sex, no matter the cajoling on his part. Ginny Weasley was watching him intently, keeping eye contact with him as he plunged in and out of her as roughly as he pleased, in the middle of a deserted hallway.

It was only moments before he felt release.

When he'd finished, he lowered her onto the floor, feeling her legs slip from around his waist. She smoothed out the front of her robe and turned on her heel, leaving him staring after her in amazement.

The next day, his eyes unconsciously searched her out at the Gryffindor table. There she was, in her usual spot, drinking a cup of tea. Potter, Granger, and her brother were all surrounding her, laughing and being the idiots they most always were. She, on the other hand, was very silent and stiff. She straightened her back when Potter's arm snaked around her shoulders. Draco had to tug his eyes away from the scene, and left the table wondering why she had come to him twice already.

That night she was back again.

This time, he wanted to push his limits. He wanted to see how far she was willing to let him go. He led her into a different hallway; one that was more frequently used. She did not object when he motioned for her to get down on all fours, and he took her from behind. His furious pumping made her cry out when she came, and he collapsed briefly onto her back. When he pulled out and stood, he reached out a hand to help her up. She took it and stood, brushing herself off.

She seemed not to mind that they never spoke or had any foreplay. It made him curious, although he wasn't about to complain about it.

He watched her walk slowly down the hallway and disappear around the corner before turning to head back to his room. It didn't occur to him to wonder why he hadn't told anyone a secret that would surely crush Potter.

* * *

><p>He was growing frustrated.<p>

She hadn't been to see him in over a week, and as a result, he hadn't had sex in over a week.

Pansy just wasn't getting the job done for him anymore.

The sexual frustration was starting to reach frenzied heights. Draco Malfoy had not gone more than three days without a good shag since he'd turned fifteen. Admittedly, that had only been two and a half years ago, but it was long enough for him to get used to the consistent physical activity.

He had to find her.

He waited until he knew that the wonder twits (Potter and her brother) were in Divination. The Mudblood would be in Arithmancy. While he hated missing Arithmancy (it was his favourite class), he felt that this was a more urgent matter. He scoured the school for her, ultimately finding her in one of the back corners of the library. She was reaching up for a book on one of the higher shelves, and he watched as the bottom of her shirt lifted with the motion of her arms. A small, triangular patch of skin showed on her side, and his erection begged for release.

She turned to see him standing at the end of the aisle, watching her, but said nothing. Her eyes didn't even widen. She began to brush past him, but he stopped her by pinning her to the shelf behind her, and focused his mercurial gaze on her.

'Where the hell have you been?' he snarled. She stared.

'In the library.'

'Don't get smart with me. You know what I mean.'

'I haven't been able to get away,' she said simply. He stared at her, then let out a soft noise of disbelief.

'You couldn't get away from Potter?' she shook her head. 'Pathetic. And here I thought you were enjoying the taste of freedom I was giving you.' It was meant to goad her into coming to him later that night, but he didn't know that it had come out sounding the way he'd meant it to. Something in the way she was looking at him made the breath catch in his throat.

She slowly ducked out from beneath the prison of his arms and moved to the nearest table, where her things were scattered across the surface. He watched as she picked up her books, scooping them into her bookbag. As she did so, a single quill fell to the floor. She bent over to pick it up, and the blood drained from his face.

She wasn't wearing any knickers.

She had just flashed him in the _library!_

She was going to get away with it, too, if he didn't move, and move quick.

He moved behind her and grabbed her hip, forcing his zipper down with his free hand, then entered her swiftly. He knew he was being rough, but she didn't cry out, and his need was so great that there was no way in heaven or in hell that he could have held back. In the silence of the library, all he could hear was his racing pulse roaring in his ears, and the sound of his skin slapping against hers. When he came, it was hard and fast. He felt her walls clenching around him, and knew that she had climaxed, too.

He pulled away from her quickly and zipped up, and watched as she stood calmly and smoothed the wrinkles out of her uniform skirt. She picked her robe up and fastened it around her shoulders, then put her rogue quill back into her bookbag before walking out of the library. He stared after her, his breathing still extremely ragged, and wondered what the hell had gotten into him.


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny was sitting in the common room in front of the fire, her legs swinging over the arm of the chair absentmindedly as she stared into the flames, mesmerized by them. Her potions book was open on her lap. It had been there for the last twenty minutes, even though she hadn't glanced at it once. Harry and Ron were helping Hermione look something up in the library, or something similarly ridiculous.

She hadn't been able to concentrate on her studies all day.

The incident in the library with Malfoy had seen to that.

And why was she going back to him? She knew what an arrogant prat he was. She knew that Harry was good for her; he was the Hero of the known Wizarding world. Any girl would kill to be with him the way she was.

Except for her.

She hadn't enjoyed that first shag with Harry the way she believed that a girl should enjoy her first time. He hadn't done anything that she'd imagined he might; no kissing, no gentle touches or caresses – nothing of the sort. And she hadn't planned on doing it again with him.

Those damned piercing green eyes were her weakness.

She wouldn't even be in her current situation if she'd just had the willpower to say no. Just say no, and … crush the poor boy. Wound him for life. As if he didn't have enough spectacle and indignity in his life already. No, she couldn't bring herself to do that to him. She may have realized that she wasn't enamored of him any longer, but she was making an effort to pretend.

She must be doing a fairly smashing job of it, too, because no one seemed to notice.

And then Malfoy. Oh, Malfoy. Her heart fluttered at the thought of his name. He was exciting, she had to admit. She wasn't attracted to him because he was particularly good looking, or anything like that. No, he wasn't exactly what she would call handsome. He was attractive in his own way; his angular features screamed _Aristocrat _and _good breeding,_ but they weren't handsome like Harry's features. Draco had an allure that she couldn't deny, though.

He wasn't afraid of being caught.

He wasn't afraid to be rough with her.

He didn't care what anyone thought of him.

And she knew that he would never, ever pass up an opportunity to shag Potter's girl, if for no other reason than to get to Harry. She certainly didn't entertain the idea that he might actually be attracted to her or care about her in any way, which was fine by her. She had Harry to care about her.

If only she could care about him.

She sighed noisily and closed her book. How had she let things get this far? It was all eating her up inside. She knew her brothers loved the idea that she might eventually marry Harry and make him a legitimate part of the family. Her parents encouraged that idea as well. She had no intentions whatsoever of ever spending another day with Harry past his last day at Hogwarts.

She wished she had never questioned her feelings for him and laid the trap.

The trap had backfired and caught her in its vise grip, and she was finding it damn near impossible to break free of it.

The truth about Draco, she realized as she climbed the stairs to her dormitory, was that he _hadn't_ changed. He was the one constant in her crazy, out-of-control life. No matter what happened, he still hated her as much as he ever did. She could throw herself at his feet and beg and plead for his love or mercy, and she knew he would have neither.

It was an odd sort of comfort, to know that your enemy still hated you.

She pulled her clothes off and slid her arms into her nightdress. She climbed beneath the covers, glad for the reprieve from Harry & Co., if only for one night. Even her brother had started to irk her lately. Irking was good, though. Any emotion was good, really, when compared to the lifelessness she felt when Harry's arms were around her, or when his mouth was on her, or when he was inside of her.

_It wouldn't be half so bad if Harry was a decent lover,_ she mused. As a boyfriend, he was thoughtful, considerate, and mindful of her feelings. As a lover, he was selfish and short-lived. How was it that he could have possibly not noticed that she didn't ever reach a climax with him? Draco hadn't failed to satisfy her yet.

And she was sure that he didn't look any further than satisfying himself.

She was beginning to starve, for more reasons than that.

She wanted a real kiss, for starters.

She had been withholding her lips from Harry for her own selfish reasons. She didn't want to kiss him because she just didn't. It wouldn't feel right. She had no love for him. She had no passion for him. She had nothing for him at all.

Sharing a kiss under those circumstances was likely to be detrimental to one's health.

Draco, on the other hand…

Draco she wouldn't mind kissing. At all. At least there was hate between them, and that was a strong pull between two people. There was passion; that couldn't be denied. She felt that tightening in her abdomen whenever she thought of him moving inside her, being rough with her, and generally not giving a royal squirt of piss as to whether or not anyone knew about it.

After all, he _was_ Draco Malfoy.

He could do whatever the bloody hell he wanted to.

She drifted off into sleep wondering if his lips were as sharp as the words that fell from them.

* * *

><p>He found himself watching her more than he'd ever wanted to watch anyone in his entire life. He began quietly observing her at first; glancing at her whenever she passed in the halls, or whenever she sat down to a meal.<p>

He noticed that she did not eat.

She never ate more than a piece of bread.

How was it that her ignorant housemates had not noticed that the girl was not eating at mealtimes, and he had?

Why was it that no one seemed to care if she ate or not, as long as pretty boy Potter was sitting next to her?

And why should it matter to him that the dark circles under her eyes were getting bigger with each passing day?

He would pass her in the hallway and watch with contempt as Potter wound a protective arm about her shoulders, never seeing the empty look in her eyes. Potter never seemed to notice that she stiffened visibly whenever he touched her. He never seemed to notice that his beloved girlfriend never spoke more than two words at a time to him.

She was _Potter's_ girlfriend.

So why the hell was _he_ seeing all of the things that Potter did not?

She was a puzzle. She would come to him of her own volition, either following him at night or bumping into him in compromising places in broad daylight. He hadn't turned her away yet; not even once. And on the rare occasion that he sought her out, she had never refused him, either.

He didn't love her. He didn't even like her. But it seemed that they had reached some sort of physical agreement. She would trade her emptiness for his.

In the time that they had begun meeting, Draco had begun to feel what acceptance, real acceptance, was like. Her attentions were free of strings and catches. She was performing a service for him and his service in return was her only fee. It was liberating to have these meetings, really; she never asked him for anything, never demanded anything of him, and basically just let him do whatever he wanted.

She had also never spoken to him during sex.

He knew that she hadn't been a virgin when she came to him, and he could only guess that that had been Potter's doing. Not that it mattered, really. Draco was glad he'd taken care of the hard part, and left the more enjoyable parts up to him.

There was never foreplay, and there was no kissing.

He was surprised to find that he actually sort of missed the kissing.

He had long since disposed of his meetings with Pansy and Millicent and Blaise; none of them offered him what she had.

Only the redhead could give him what he wanted.

Physical relief with no expectations of false promises in return.

* * *

><p>Ginny had managed to break away from Harry long enough for a trip to the loo. She was in the hallway, heading towards the Great Hall. Suddenly her heart was racing so quickly that it hurt. Her lungs seemed to have closed off, and she couldn't breathe. She dropped to her knees in the empty hallway, feeling very much as though she might be sick.<p>

Draco rounded the corner in time to see her eyelids flutter closed and her head hit the stone floor with a sickening_ crunch._ He sprinted towards her, kneeling beside her. He lifted a hand to her forehead, which was clammy and cold. She was sweating profusely, and her entire body was trembling so badly that it was twitching in his arms.

He felt the first real moment of fear that he'd ever felt in his entire life.

He knew that he couldn't take her to any of the Professors, or to Madam Pomfrey, because they would automatically assume that he had done something to cause her current condition. Instead, he opted for the only other thing he could fall back on – he took her to his room.

As Head Boy, he was granted his own private quarters, for which he was grateful. Once he had gotten her inside without incident, he was at a loss again. He couldn't even call the house elves for fear that they might alert someone. He went into the bathroom and wet a towel, then brought it back into his room and pressed the cool cloth to her head. He unbuttoned her shirt and removed it, gently swiping the moistened towel across her sweat-drenched skin.

What had happened to her? Her eyelids were fluttering wildly, and she was struggling to breathe. The situation scared him for the simple fact that he did not have it under his control. He didn't know how to stop whatever was assaulting her.

It took several minutes, but eventually she calmed down. Her breathing returned to its normal rhythm, and her eyes stopped moving. She looked as though she was being embraced by a peaceful sleep. Draco sat in a deep green armchair and watched as she slept on his bed. He realized quite suddenly that she was the first girl he'd ever brought to his private room.

Not that it mattered.

Seconds later, her eyes opened slowly, and she took a deep breath. She sat up coughing and sputtering, and a wave of nausea passed over her. She looked around the room, and Draco was rather surprised that she didn't look frightened. Her eyes fell on him, and she actually seemed… _relieved._

'What happened?' Her voice was crackling. He regarded her silently for a moment, realizing that her question had not been accusatory, but inquisitive. She knew he hadn't done anything to cause whatever had happened.

Something had gone wrong and she hadn't immediately pointed her finger at him.

Would wonders never cease?

'I don't know.'

'Did I pass out?'

'Yes.'

'Did I say anything?'

'No.'

'Did I get sick on anyone?'

'No.' She seemed satisfied with his clipped answers, which surprised him. He watched as she slid off of the bed and retrieved her shirt, then slipped her arms into the sleeves. She began buttoning it up, and he saw that her fingers were still shaking badly. So badly, in fact, that she was having a difficult go of fastening her shirt. He stood and moved closer to her, and took over the task himself.

'Thank you,' she said simply, turning towards the door. He watched her leave and continued to be amazed at her. She hadn't begged and pleaded for him not to tell anyone about the incident. Surely she didn't trust that he wouldn't? She shouldn't, if that was the case. He'd never given her any reason to believe that he was trustworthy.

It wasn't until she had been gone for an hour that he realized she had neglected to ask if anyone had missed her.

It was probably wise of her not to have asked, anyway.

They both knew the answer.


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny avoided going back to the Great Hall and finishing dinner, as she had promised Harry she would do when she had finished in the loo. Instead, she made her way down to the library, intent on finding out exactly what had happened to her in the hallway.

She didn't stop to wonder why Draco had helped her, and then not asked for anything in return.

It was a part of their silent agreement.

If he offered help, she would take it, but she would not ask for it. And vice versa. It was not a pleasant arrangement in the traditional sense of the word, but she took great comfort in it.

It was nice to know exactly where you stood with someone, and not have to worry about whether or not they were cutting you down behind your back while they adored you to your face.

She _knew_ Draco cut her down behind her back.

She burst into the library and headed straight towards the_ Magical Maladies and Illnesses _section, letting her fingers brush over the spines of the old books. She pulled several down and went to a table, looking up the symptoms she could remember.

She immediately discarded the thought that she might be pregnant. She had used protection charms religiously, not leaving it to the boys to take care of. She would have already been pregnant twenty times over if that was the case.

She flipped through the books, looking for anything that grouped shortness of breath, fainting, and nausea in the same area. Her finger traveled down the index of the page wildly. She needed an answer. She wanted to know if this had been a one-time occurrence, or if she should expect to see it again.

If it was going to come back, she needed to know how to control it.

She opened the last book on the table; her last hope before she was going to give up and ask Madam Pomfrey for help. It was a book on common illnesses in Muggles, meant to help Wizards understand their behavior when ill. Apparently, they had differing ideas when it came to mentally incapacitated people.

Muggles would stick them into things called mental institutions and leave them there to rot. It seemed that they didn't believe that things like dementia and split personalities could be reversed, when in fact, they could.

It just took an extremely powerful witch or wizard to do it properly.

She skimmed through the book until her eyes fell on a title in bold, black letters.

_**PANIC ATTACKS: The Hallmark of Panic Disorder**_

_A panic attack is a sudden surge of overwhelming fear that comes without warning and without any obvious reason. It is far more intense than the feeling of being 'stressed out' that most people experience. Symptoms of a panic attack include:_

_· racing heartbeat_

_· difficulty breathing, feeling as though you 'can't get enough air'_

_· terror that is almost paralyzing_

_· dizziness, lightheadedness or nausea_

_· trembling, sweating, shaking_

_· choking, chest pains_

_· hot flashes, or sudden chills_

_· tingling in fingers or toes ('pins and needles')_

_· fear that you're going to go crazy or are about to die_

_· In addition to the above symptoms, a panic attack is marked by the following conditions:_

_· it occurs suddenly, without any warning and without any way to stop it._

_· the level of fear is way out of proportion to the actual situation; often, in fact, it's completely unrelated._

_· it passes in a few minutes; the body cannot sustain the 'fight or flight' response for longer than that. However, repeated attacks can continue to recur for hours._

_· A panic attack is not dangerous, but it can be terrifying, largely because it feels 'crazy' and 'out of control.' Panic disorder is frightening because of the panic attacks associated with it, and also because it often leads to other complications such as phobias, depression, substance abuse, medical complications, even suicide. Its effects can range from mild word or social impairment to a total inability to face the outside world._

_In fact, the phobias that people with panic disorder develop do not come from fears of actual objects or events, but rather from fear of having another attack. In these cases, people will avoid certain objects or situations because they fear that these things will trigger another attack._

She blinked, and leaned back heavily in her chair. Was that what had happened to her, a "panic attack?" She identified with all of the symptoms, but not with the way they were brought on. She hadn't had any losses of anyone lately…

Unless she counted herself.

If this book was correct, then this might happen again. It might come back. And she would not be able to control it, or keep it from coming. She closed her eyes and swore softly under her breath. She didn't think she could handle that again; that sudden feeling that someone has reached out and closed a fist around your trachea.

She stood and left the library, not bothering to put her books away. She'd had enough for one evening.

Draco watched her leave the library, and made his way over to the table she'd been occupying. The girl really was too careless; anyone who wanted to could come over and read what she'd been researching. He scanned the books that were lying haphazardly on the table, and his eyes fell on the one she'd left open. He picked it up and read through the page, then glanced up to make sure no one was watching.

He ripped the page out.

He folded it and stuffed it inside his robe, then sauntered out of the library the same way he'd sauntered in. He went back to his room, where he called for a house elf to bring him a mug of cocoa. He would never let anyone know, but he had developed a sweet tooth as far as chocolate went.

How very unmanly and un-evil of him.

He pulled the paper out and examined it thoroughly, now that he was in the privacy of his own room. Panic Attacks? He frowned as he read. She had most definitely exhibited all of the symptoms listed, that he could remember, anyway.

How could she have a disorder this uncontrollable and no one else know about it?

And damn it all to hell, why was it that he felt as though he knew more about her than even her famous, utterly useless boyfriend did?

Ginny managed to make it through the week without another panic attack, much to her relief. Perhaps the book was wrong, and they _could_ be controlled. Whatever the case, she was glad not to have had to deal with another one.

She was also extremely grateful that Draco didn't seem to either mind or otherwise appear bothered by the whole incident.

She was still meeting him at night, even though they rarely visited hallways anymore. They met several times in the Astronomy Tower during one week, then moved into classrooms the next week. One weekend they even managed to have a quick encounter near the lake in broad daylight, with a Care of Magical Creatures class going on just around the other side of the castle.

She was still forced to share the occasional night with Harry, but she would always close her eyes and let herself drift away while he moved on top of her. He never switched positions, he never looked her in the eyes, and he never, ever was anything but gentle with her.

Not that it mattered.

Draco filled that particular void in her life.

She had stayed true to their unspoken agreement. She met him for wild, dangerous encounters, and ignored him at all other times. He went on about his life, and she went on about her existence.

Well, at least that hadn't changed.

She still felt empty when Harry touched her. She still felt unfulfilled when he was inside of her. And most of all, she felt nothing when he finally delivered the three little words she'd dreamt of since she was ten years old.

'I love you.'

He'd said them to her one night after collapsing on her, and she had remained silent, simply giving him what she hoped looked like an ecstatic smile. Afterwards, she had fled the tower and searched the hallways for Draco.

It hadn't taken long to find him.

He must have been waiting for her, as well.

He was patrolling a hallway near the Transfiguration classrooms, and very near Professor McGonagall's private quarters when she found him. He turned silently when she entered the hall, taking in her state of disarray. Her robe was absent, and she was wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of skimpy shorts. Her hair was ruffled and in need of a good brushing.

He hadn't seemed to mind it one bit.

He had pushed her into a classroom, leaving the door open behind them, and dropped his pants. She pulled her shorts off and sat on a desk, waiting for him. He moved close and thrust his hips towards her, entering her so roughly that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She knew that he was experienced enough to know that she had just had sex.

He never said a thing about it.

She was grateful. She just needed something… something to get her mind off of Harry, and how dead she felt at the sound of those words falling from his lips.

The pain made her feel wonderfully alive again.

He pounded into her as though his very life depended on it; as if the devil himself was nipping at his heels. When he was spent, her legs were trembling, and she would no sooner trust them to support her as she would trust Harry to notice that he was killing her.

She waited until Draco had gone to slide off of the desk and slide her legs into the shorts. She felt a gush of something and gingerly touched her fingers to her thigh.

Blood.

_Oh, shit._

Either it was time for her monthly, or he really _had_ been rougher than she'd thought. She made her way back up to her room and took a quick shower, knowing that whatever the case was, she was going to be extremely sore in the morning.

She woke up feeling as though there was a huge weight pressing down on her chest. Immediately panic flooded her senses, and she was struggling to break free. A familiar wave of nausea swept over her, and she saw stars before everything faded to black.

She didn't know how much later it was when she woke up. She pressed a shaking hand to her forehead and grimaced; she felt like ice. Then why was she so hot? She saw a piece of parchment on her nightstand and picked it up, already knowing who it would be from.

_Gin,  
>We went ahead and went into Hogsmeade without you. Hermione said that you were sweating and felt feverish, so we decided not to disturb your rest. She'll be back to check on you for me later. Please rest for me, I will bring you a surprise back from Hogsmeade.<br>I love you.  
>Harry<em>

Her stomach churned. She was going to be sick. She dropped the parchment and dashed to the loo, barely making it before she vomited the contents of her stomach.

Which wasn't much.

She sat back and rested her head against the back of the stall door. Draco had probably gone into Hogsmeade as well, then.

She didn't know why, but the thought that he was gone flooded her with disappointment.

She stood and went back to her room, where she threw the parchment in the fire. She grabbed some clothes and a towel and made her way down to the Prefects' bathroom, where several large bath tubs were calling her name. She dropped her things beside one and ignored the nasty comments that the mermaid was making at her, and began to fill the tub with scalding water.

It had to hurt if it was to help, after all.

She lowered herself into the water, breaking through the surface of pink, scented bubbles as she did. The warmth seeped into her skin, penetrating her bones. She closed her eyes and let her head drop back onto the rim of the bathtub, not caring that people were coming in and out of the room while she was naked beneath the water.

She was sure they'd all seen it before, anyway.

What she didn't expect, and what did surprise her, was the feeling of someone getting into the bath tub with her. She opened surprised eyes to see Draco smirking wickedly at her.

'Well, this is one place that I can honestly say I've never done it.' She didn't know what surprised her more; that he had spoken to her, or that he had spoken _neutrally_ to her.

'There's a first time for everything, you know,' she said, closing her eyes and resuming her relaxed position. He watched her, and marveled at how laid-back she seemed to be around him. They were in constant danger of getting caught and found out, but she didn't seem to be bothered by it.

Actually, now that he thought about it, the more likely they were to get caught, the louder she screamed when she found release.

How interesting.

He took the opportunity to let his eyes wander over her. She wasn't perfect by any means, and she wasn't beautiful, but she did have a certain… appeal. Her skin was smooth and flawless, and her breasts, while small, were perfectly formed. The curve of her hip and her flat stomach were also desirable qualities.

Plus, she kept her mouth shut, most of the time.

At least, until he indicated that he _wanted_ to talk, and then she obliged.

He liked being in control.

He reached out and touched his fingers to her thigh, squeezing it roughly. He saw her catch the corner of her lip between her teeth – the gesture that he had come to realize meant that she was enjoying what he did. His fingers slipped higher and slid easily inside of her. Her eyes flew open and she watched him steadily.

He never took his eyes off of hers as he began pumping his fingers slowly in and out. His thumb brushed over the small bud of flesh that made her quiver, and he scooted closer. The look on her face, combined with the thought that they might be discovered at any moment, were enough to make him painfully hard.

He continued his ministrations until she was gasping, which meant that she was close to orgasm. He withdrew his fingers, and lightning fast, she had crossed the small space between them and swung her leg over him, straddling his lap. She lowered herself onto him, and he sucked in a deep breath.

She began moving up and down slowly at first, then with more urgency. He bucked his hips upward to meet her movements, and she bit her lip hard. When she came, she screamed. It was the loudest noise he'd ever heard her make, and it increased exponentially their chances of being discovered.

It was the sexiest thing he'd ever heard in his entire life.

He came moments later, letting go of a scream that rivaled hers.

Even sex and the intensity of their orgasms was a sort of competition.

When they were both breathing normally again, she slid off of him and resumed her former position of relaxing against the back of the tub. She closed her eyes and let the hot water swirl deliciously around her satiated sex. He sat there and stared at her.

'Why?' he asked.

'Why not?' she fired back quickly, not opening her eyes.

'Why me?'

'Because you loathe me.' Her answer caught him off guard. He'd been expecting her to say something that all of the other girls had said: _"Because I've heard you're good in bed." "Because you're dead sexy." "Because you're rich." "Because you're powerful."_ Never had a girl told him she slept with him because she knew he hated her.

But it made sense.

In some sick, twisted, warped way, it made sense in his mind. He laid back and rested his head against the back of the tub, not really caring if anyone walked in and saw him bathing with a filthy Weasley.


	4. Chapter 4

**Throw It All Away, Chapter Four**

_This feeling's back today_

_It's so deceiving, like it's never leaving…_

Ginny had been seeing Draco for three months when the Halloween party rolled around. By that time, Ron and Hermione had seen the light and begun dating, to much of the relief of the rest of the Hogwarts student body.

Except for two people, who were rather put out by the whole ordeal.

Ginny and Draco were put out for the simple fact that neither one of them took much pleasure in catching her brother and Hermione swapping spit samples. Not that Ron and Hermione snogged in public – they were very clandestine about it. They waited until Hermione had to take care of her Head Girl patrolling for the evening, and Ron would follow her.

He didn't know that his sister was sneaking around with the Head Boy.

Draco figured it must be a Weasley thing – they must be attracted to people in positions of power.

Ginny had nearly slugged him when he'd said it to her.

She continued to have panic attacks, and to her dismay, they were getting closer and closer together. Thankfully, the Dream Team hadn't been around for any of them. Draco had walked in on her having one in the Prefects' bathroom last week, but other than that, he hadn't seen them, either.

It was a comfort to know that if she couldn't prevent them, at least she didn't have them in front of people.

Harry still hadn't noticed that she wasn't responding to him in bed. It wasn't that she_ wanted _him to notice, really; it just surprised her that he was so wrapped up in satisfying himself that he didn't. And now, of course, she was expected to go to the Halloween party with him, and laugh, and eat, and pretend to have fun.

She refused to do it.

It was an inner refusal, but a refusal all the same. She would not eat their sweets. One whiff of the dessert table made her feel nauseated. One look at dinner made her stomach turn. All she could choke down was a buttered roll.

And even that took effort.

_Same as yesterday_

_As the pressure's mounting, I continue counting…_

Across the room, Draco watched her. Students had gotten up and started dancing to the music that was playing loudly in the room, but she remained sitting by Potter. For some reason, tonight, it infuriated Draco to see her sitting serenely by his side.

Especially since he knew that she was nowhere _near_ being serene.

He had been watching her for the past three months. He watched how no one ever stopped to ask how she was doing, or why she was slowly wasting away in front of them. No one ever made a point to tell her to eat something. No one ever noticed the hollowness of her laughter. No one ever offered to escort her anywhere to make sure she was safe.

Of course, the irony of that last thought hit him with full force.

She _wasn't_ safe.

Not as long as she kept coming to him.

He hadn't told her, but he hadn't slept with anyone else in the three months they'd been cavorting. He knew that she was still sleeping with Potter, but the thought didn't bother him as much as it probably should have. It was painfully obvious that Potter wasn't satisfying her, since a lot of nights she came to him still smelling of sex.

Why the hell didn't anyone pay attention to her? She was dying right in front of them.

And why the hell did he care?

Ginny watched her brother twirling Hermione around on the dance floor. Hermione's cheeks were flushed, and she looked lovelier than Ginny could ever remember seeing her. She knew what it was. It was something she didn't have.

Happiness.

She wasn't happy. She didn't love Harry, and she was quickly approaching the point of loathing him. Not that it was his fault – he couldn't help it that she was spineless. If she had been strong at all, she would have just told him no, and then none of this would be happening.

He turned to ask her to dance, but thankfully, that was the moment that Susan Bones chose to approach him and ask for his hand. He didn't even glance at Ginny to see if it would be alright with her.

Then again, that didn't matter, either.

Her eyes wandered over the room, unconsciously scanning the crowd for the top of his white-blonde head. When she found it, she was surprised to find him watching her. She kept his gaze, waiting for his date to poke her pug-face in the way.

To her great surprise, he appeared to have come alone.

That wasn't to say that he was going to _leave_ alone, though. She watched as several girls approached and asked him to dance, only to fail miserably and be graced with one of his trademark glares. She waited until he looked away from her, turning his attention to one of his groupies, and she stood.

She walked steadily towards the entrance to the Great Hall, hoping to make a quiet escape from everyone, and wanting nothing more than to lie down in her big, soft bed.

Oh, how desperately she wanted that.

It wasn't meant to be.

She was walking along the wall when it happened. Her chest felt like someone was sitting on it, cutting off the air to her lungs. She could feel the sweat break out on her brow, and felt the blood rushing from her head. She clamped a hand over her mouth, sure she was going to be sick.

Draco turned to see that she was no longer in her seat. He looked around, wondering if she'd actually gotten up to dance, and simultaneously knowing that she hadn't. He spotted her just as the blood drained from her face and her eyes rolled back in her head. Before he could stop to think about the consequences of what he was about to do, he bolted across the room.

He almost made it.

Her head hit the floor with a soft _thunk_. Someone nearby uttered a soft scream. Thankfully not very many people turned around.

Shit.

Potter had.

Draco picked her arm up and took her pulse. It was racing wildly. Damn these people that she called friends! They should have made her eat. They should have noticed that she was losing weight. They should have done a lot of things, in his esteemed opinion.

'What the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?' Potter raged, making his way over to them. Draco placed her hand gently on her chest and stood, giving him a cold look.

'I was checking to make sure she wasn't dead, Potter.'

'Hmph,' he muttered, bending over her. He pushed the hair off of her forehead and frowned. He looked up at Draco accusingly. 'What spell did you hit her with?'

'I didn't hit her with anything,' he said. By now a crowd had gathered around them, hoping to see another epic battle between the boys. They'd never failed to deliver before.

'The hell you didn't! She's as pale as a ghost, and she's shaking!'

'She had a panic attack, Potter,' he said quietly. He'd said it so quietly that only Harry could hear him. Harry's eyes widened, and he glanced down at her before eyeing Malfoy suspiciously.

'I don't believe you.'

'Fine. Don't believe me. Just let her lie down. It will pass in a few minutes.' With that, he made his way back to the corner of the room he'd been occupying before. Harry stared after him, then looked down at Ginny, whose eyelids had begun to flutter open.

'What happened?' she breathed, sitting up. She shook her head, gathering her thoughts, and dread filled her stomach as she realized what had happened. What other cause would there be for her to be lying on the floor? Harry stared at her.

'I think you need to go to the hospital wing,' he said. She nodded, not feeling like fighting. He helped her to the hospital wing and stayed long enough to find out whether or not she'd be staying overnight.

When Madam Pomfrey said yes, he dropped a kiss on Ginny's forehead and left.

She knew something was going on.

Harry had never just up and left her side so easily before. She stared after him in surprise.

She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, hoping against hope that Madam Pomfrey would administer a sleeping draught that made it impossible to dream. Instead, she was startled when the door to the infirmary opened, and Draco strode in, his black robes billowing around him. He stalked up to her bed with a deadly gleam in his eye.

'Why the hell didn't you tell him, so he could help you?' She stared at him.

'Tell who what?'

'Don't play games with me. You know damn good and well what I'm talking about.' She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back on the pillow.

'No one can help me. I can't stop them. I don't even know what started them. I just have to figure out a way to deal with them.'

'And what happens the next time you take a bath and have one, and slip under the water and no one's there to save you?' She turned to look at him, and her eyes were so blank that it sent a shiver down his spine.

'Then I guess the problem will have taken care of itself, won't it?'

'You know I'm not going to help you. Why don't you tell someone who can?'

'I don't want help, and I don't need it. I'm fine.'

'You don't need help,' he echoed flatly. She shook her head and pulled the cover up to her neck, which he promptly yanked away. Her eyes flew open and she glared at him. He grasped a fragile wrist in his hand and held her arm up in the air. 'You can honestly look at yourself and tell me that you don't need help?'

'Yes.'

'Bullshit,' he dropped her, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

'You're not going to save me, Draco.' He stared at her one more time before turning and heading towards the door. When he turned, he saw Madam Pomfrey giving her a vial full of bright blue liquid.

'The hell I'm not,' he muttered, disappearing through the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Throw It All Away, Chapter Five**

Ginny was released the next evening after dinner. She was heading back towards Gryffindor tower the long way, staring at the floor as her feet automatically took her where she wanted to go. She was dreading going back; she didn't want to have to deal with Harry again so soon after her attack yesterday. She stopped in front of a window to examine herself.

The bags under her eyes were turning from their regular purplish color to a nasty shade of black. She made sure no one was watching and pulled out her wand, casting a glamour spell on herself. She continued walking, and was surprised when a hand shot out and grabbed her. She recognized the spicy aftershave immediately and relaxed. He turned around and examined her face for a moment before dragging her down to the dungeons.

He didn't even pause to see if anyone was lurking in the halls as he shoved her inside his room and slammed the portrait shut behind them.

She turned and opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, he'd covered her mouth with his in a crushing kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, sweeping across every surface it could reach. His hands were behind her head, tangled in her russet hair, tugging roughly on it as he invaded her.

She was breathless. She hadn't been kissed in over three months, let alone as roughly as he was doing it.

Her knees began to buckle.

He wrapped his arms around her waist before she fell, steadying her and holding her up against him. He kissed her over and over, teeth clacking against teeth and tongue brushing tongue. By the time he had finished kissing her, her lips were swollen, and her head was reeling. She stumbled backwards when he released her, and they stood there, panting wildly and staring at each other.

It was the most arousing kiss he'd ever been a part of.

He crossed the room in three short strides and hooked his arm under her knees, picking her up and carrying her to his bed. He laid her on the downy comforter and began to remove his clothes. She watched him curiously, wondering why he was straying from their formula. When he was finished, she sucked in a deep breath.

She realized that she hadn't seen him totally naked before now.

Of course, he'd taken a few baths with her, but he'd always gotten in and out while her eyes were closed. Now she understood the fuss from Lavender and Parvati.

He was a sight to behold.

He crawled onto the bed and began removing her clothes, somewhat surprised by the fact that she was just letting him, and watching him as he did it. He threw all of her clothes on the floor and rested a palm on the bed on either side of her head, pinning her down. They watched each other for a moment, and then he bent his head to capture her lips again.

His mouth moved down her jaw, nibbling and kissing. When he reached her neck, his teeth took a more active role. Every inch of skin he could sink his teeth into, he did. Right afterwards, his tongue would caress the spot he'd bitten. He was alternating the pleasure and pain, and she'd never felt anything like it.

He began to suck hard on her neck, making little red marks as he went along. No matter what Potter did with her, no matter what she did to Potter, these marks were _his_. They branded her as his. Even if no one else knew, the two of them knew. His teeth grazed her collarbone, then sunk into her shoulder as his hand came up to fondle a breast. She gasped as his thumb brushed over the rosy peak of her nipple. His tongue laved the bitten spot at the same time, moving in the same small circles that his thumb was using.

His head moved down and he caught a taut nipple gently between his teeth. She moaned. The sound surprised him so much that he stopped and looked up at her, confusion rippling through his steely eyes. She'd never made any noises during sex, except the occasional scream at the end as she reached orgasm.

He found that it was a welcome change, however distracting it may be.

He traced wet circles around the outside of her breasts with his tongue, taking his time and being agonizingly slow. When he finally captured her nipple again, she cried out and buried her fingers in his hair. He moved slowly, deliberately, between each breast, savoring the taste of her skin on his lips and tongue.

Finally he began kissing downwards, dragging his tongue across the smooth skin of her stomach, and pausing just long enough to dip into her navel. She shuddered and opened her legs slightly to him. He kissed the inside of her thigh, nibbling gently, and felt her begin to tremble. He was close enough that he could smell her arousal. He dipped a finger gently into her pink folds, and she arched her back. Once he had his finger inside of her, he moved forward and touched the tip of his tongue to the bud of flesh in front of him.

She cried out his name, and he licked harder. Her head began to thrash on the pillow as he slipped another finger inside of her and curled them slightly. She grabbed wildly at the sheets, needing something to hold onto as he sent her flying over the edge of the cliff. She came hard, and she screamed louder than he'd ever heard her do before.

He licked her slowly until she had stopped gasping, then moved over her. Her eyes were closed. He frowned until she opened them and met his eyes. There was a look of wonder and gratitude there that he had never had directed at him before, and it surprised him.

It felt …_ good._

She watched his face as he entered her, surprised at how slow he was moving. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead, and before she could stop herself, she pulled his face down and licked them off. He made a grunting noise as she continued to lick him. Her tongue slid down his neck and stopped when she reached the hollow at the base of his throat.

She sucked hard, bringing a bright red mark to the surface. She half expected him to rage at her for leaving a mark somewhere so readily visible.

But he seemed to be… enjoying it.

She nipped gently at his shoulder, marveling at how soft his skin was. Her hands caressed his shoulders lightly, then trailed down his chest, until she was gripping his hardness in one hand. The other hand slid around to fondle his bum, and he groaned as she squeezed both hands gently.

The hand that was holding his erection began moving gently, stroking him slowly. He lowered his forehead to hers and stared into her eyes as she pumped him up and down and kneaded with her other hand. Suddenly he stopped her by pulling away, and she stared at him in confusion – until he slid his hard length inside of her.

Her eyes widened at the feeling of him inside of her. No matter how much sex she was engaged in with Harry, Draco never failed to amaze her. He always seemed to know exactly the right angle to enter at, and how fast or hard she needed him to go. Tonight wasn't an exception.

He began thrusting slowly at first, building up the tension. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him, digging her heels into the small of his back, and he let out a hiss of air. His thrusts began coming harder and faster, until he was deeper inside of her than he'd ever been before. She could feel the tension coiling through her, building into a tight knot of pressure in her abdomen that grew tighter and tighter until it burst, the shards of it rocketing through her entire body.

He wasn't far behind with his own orgasm. Several more hard thrusts, and he was screaming her name as he emptied himself into her. He collapsed onto her chest, and they both lay there with their chests heaving. He was the first one to move again, and folded his arms across her chest, resting his chin on his hands. He watched her for a moment before licking his lips and speaking.

'Feeling better?'

'Now I am.'

'Tell Potter yet?'

'No.'

'Going to?'

'No.'

He watched her for another minute before pushing himself up and off of her, and rolled onto his back on the bed. She had the strong urge to curl up next to him and rest her head on his chest, but it seemed out of place with him. She stayed exactly where she was and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before standing to collect her things.

He watched as her moist skin glistened in the dim light of his room. She had no modesty around him, which was actually rather refreshing. He had had enough of women who would perform unspeakable sexual acts on him in the dark, then suddenly become shy when the light came on. It was just pathetic, really.

She tugged on her shirt and skirt without putting her knickers or bra on, and he sat up to watch, interested. She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled a band of elastic out of her robe pocket, sliding it around her hair. She shrugged her robe onto her shoulders and fastened the clasp, then headed towards the door.

He watched as she left, and collapsed back onto his bed, closing his eyes. He'd just as soon sever a limb as admit it to anyone, but he'd just had the most amazing, mind-blowing sex of his entire life. His lips were going to be swollen and sore tomorrow, but he didn't care.

The soreness would stay with him until the next time she sought out his company.

He turned his head and a scrap of white caught his eye. He jumped off of the bed and moved towards it. When he bent to pick it up, an amused smile flitted across his features. The vixen had gone and left her knickers and bra for him. He pressed the white cotton to his face before shoving the undergarments into the top drawer of his dresser, and crawled into bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Throw It All Away, Chapter Six**

Ginny returned to Gryffindor Tower with a bit of spring in her step. She stepped through the portrait hole and froze in her tracks. Harry was waiting for her, arms folded across his chest, and an unreadable look on his face. She approached him slowly, but he didn't look up.

'Was that a panic attack last night?' his voice was soft and angry at the same time. She sat down in front of him.

'Yes.'

'Have you been having them long?'

'For a while now.'

'How long is that, exactly?'

'Three months.' He swore under his breath, then turned his burning viridian eyes to her.

'Can you tell me how the hell it happens that Malfoy knows about your attacks, and I don't?'

'Malfoy?' she asked, her eyebrows raising. 'What does he have to do with this?'

'He's the one who told me about the panic attacks.'

'He what?' she was genuinely surprised.

'He ran to you when you passed out last night, Ginny! That bastard put his hands on you! He made me look like an idiot in front of everyone who was watching, because he had to tell me what was going on!'

'He's seen me during an attack before, in the hallway,' she said honestly. 'That's how he knew.' Harry relaxed slightly, but still looked angry.

'Ginny, I love you. I want you to tell me when there's something wrong. What's causing your attacks?'

'I don't know,' she shrugged. Suddenly she was very tired. Harry moved to kiss her, but at the last moment, she turned and his kiss fell on her cheek. She stood and headed towards the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories. 'Goodnight, Harry.'

She flopped across her bed, exhaustion sweeping over her. She was now confused. Draco had told Harry that she was having panic attacks? Then why was he trying to goad her into doing it, when he knew that Harry already knew? And why had Harry chosen tonight, of all nights, to try and kiss her for the first time?

And why hadn't she let him?

Saturdays were always relaxing days for Ginny. They were relaxing because Harry, Ron, and Hermione always went to Hogsmeade together, and she had taken to staying behind with the excuse of getting extra studying done.

Of course, for the last five Hogsmeade Saturdays in a row, Draco had stayed behind and found her at some point during the course of the morning.

Ginny suffered through a kiss on the forehead from Harry before the Trio set off, and rushed upstairs to gather some of her things. She wanted to take a nice, hot bath before she ran into Draco this morning. She set off for the Prefects' bathroom and turned the taps on, sprinkling the water liberally with scoops of purple bath crystals.

She climbed in and assumed her normal bath time position of lounging back against the cool porcelain surface of the tub, and closed her eyes. Moments later, she heard the _swish_ of fabric being discarded, and knew that Draco had not only stayed behind from Hogsmeade again, but that he had found her already as well.

'Is your precious boyfriend really this much of an idiot?' he asked lazily, positioning himself so that he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with her. A slight tingle flashed through her arm at the contact.

'I'm guessing yes.'

'Mmm.' He sunk lower into the water, and she giggled, causing him to looked up in surprise.

'Then again, I _do_ take baths with lots of other men, so he might know about it and just not think it's odd.' He stared at her for a moment, then grinned.

'Is that right,' he murmured, closing his eyes again. They soaked in silence for a moment, and Ginny felt soothed. She always felt normal around Draco.

Her eyes flew wide open at the thought.

When was the last time she'd felt awkward or stupid or even unnoticed in front of Draco? She searched her memory frantically, trying to come up with anything, any incident within the last three months.

She came up painfully empty.

Draco felt her tense up beside him, and he opened his eyes a crack to peer up at her. Her face was set in deep frown lines, and he wondered at it. He'd just heard her laugh not a minute earlier, and it had been a real laugh. Not one of those hollow, forced laughs that he'd seen Potter and his groupies accept as real.

Now the only thing he had to do was get her to eat.

But all things in due time.

He didn't know what possessed him to do it, but he found himself reaching out to poke her ribs with his finger. She squirmed and let out a tiny mewling sound. He did it again, and she shot him a look of false indignation. It was so obviously fake, however, that it amused him to no end.

Suddenly a noise bubbled up inside his chest and burst out through his lips. She stared at him.

He was _laughing._ 'Think you're funny, do you?' she fumed facetiously. She felt around underwater for his side and poked it with her fingertip. He let out a howl and jumped slightly. She bit her lip to hide her giggle, but he saw it anyway. He reached over and pulled her around, positioning her on his lap. She gripped his shoulders and looked down at him, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

'Funny, charming, devastatingly handsome,' he ticked off. She rolled her eyes, and he pinched her bottom.

'You left out horribly, horribly conceited,' she pointed out, pressing herself against him. He sucked in a ragged breath and squeezed her gently.

'Mmm, did I?' he asked throatily. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, feeling a tingle of excitement when he opened them to her immediately. Her tongue slid easily over his, and she could feel him harden against her thigh.

She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, biting gently. He responded by lowering his mouth to her neck and sucking hard. She exhaled slowly, and he pulled his head away and gave her a curious look.

'What?'

'Did you sleep with Potter last night?'

'No,' she said, finding it an odd question. 'Why?'

'You have marks all over your neck and shoulders,' he said, shrugging. 'I just thought he might have said something to you about them.' He bent and began sucking on her skin again.

She sighed and let her mind slip away under the movements of his lips and tongue, when his voice pulled her back to reality a second time.

'How often do you sleep with him?' he asked casually, running his tongue along her collarbone.

'Why do you care?' she asked, tilting her head back to allow him better access.

'I don't,' he said, nipping at her skin. 'I was just curious, since you seem to be with me every night, and not him.'

'Ungh,' she muttered, as he lifted a fingertip to fondle her hardened nipple. 'Uhm, maybe three times a week?' she offered weakly.

'Really?' his head shot up, and she moaned in feeble protest at the removal of his mouth from her skin.

'Is that a lot?' she asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.

'For the amount of time you spend with me, it is,' he said, a defensive edge to his voice. 'What do you do, shag me and then go shag him?' She blinked at him.

'I never sleep with Harry after I've been with you.'

'I know you've come to me right after being with him.'

'And?' She asked, her voice taking on an exasperated note. 'It never seemed to be a problem before. Or at least, you never complained about it.'

'I couldn't care less,' he said coolly. She sighed and moved off of him, resuming her place beside him in the water.

He stretched and lay his arms across the cool tile of the bath's edge, his pose deliberately casual even as his thoughts were anything but. What had possessed him to grill her like that? She was right, it hadn't mattered before; he hadn't cared in the slightest what she did when she wasn't with him, and it had even added a thrill to know that he was taking something that belonged to Potter.

So why did he feel that it mattered now?

She was retreating into her shell again, which was something he definitely did not want her to do. Things between them had been almost pleasant, and he wanted them to stay that way. He turned his head and saw a blue bottle sitting on the floor. He picked it up and tugged on her arm, urging her forward. She gave him a confused look, but complied.

He moved behind her and upended the bottle, squirting some cool liquid into his hand, then put his hands on her head. She was surprised, but the contact felt good. She'd never allowed anyone to wash her hair for her before – not that anyone had offered, anyway. His fingers worked the soap through her hair, and she closed her eyes to enjoy it.

He was surprised at himself. What had possessed him to wash her hair like a house elf? He had to admit to himself, though, that it was an interesting experience. Her hair was soft. Not as soft as his, but still pleasing to the touch, and not coarse as he'd expected. The fact that she had just allowed him to do it without questioning him was almost more pleasing than the action itself.

Almost.

He'd be willing to bet his entire inheritance that Potter had never even bathed with her. The thought made him smirk.

When he had worked the soap into a rich lather, he looked around for something to rinse it with. She half-turned to look at him.

'Are you finished?' He nodded. She ducked her head beneath the water to rinse the soap away, then resurfaced. 'Is it all out?' He shook his head.

'Better go under one more time.' She did, and when she resurfaced, she shot him a grateful smile.

'Thank you.' He nodded mutely. Before she could resume her spot in the bath beside him, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, and he sat his chin on the top of her head.

He'd lain in bed that morning, watching the sun rise after having woken up much too early to thoughts of her. He'd imagined shagging her senseless in every unoccupied room of the school, in every conceivable position, listening to her moan and gasp and scream his name just as loudly as she possibly could. But, somehow, now that he had her with him like this, he wanted to keep her there.

Besides, the longer he kept her to himself, the longer Potter would be forced to go without her.

He felt her breathing steady, and realized that she was getting very close to sleep. He let go of her and nudged her gently, and she sat up.

'Oh,' she said, stretching her legs beneath the cooling water. 'Sorry. That was really-' she stopped herself, feeling stupid for almost voicing that thought. She'd been about to tell him that it had felt nice to have him hold her. She hadn't been so relaxed in days.

He climbed out of the tub and reached for his bathrobe, tying the knot loosely around his waist. He offered his hand to her and helped her out, then watched her wrap a large, fluffy towel around her body before turning to him.

'You're going to walk through the hallways like that?' he asked, a note of apprehension in his voice. She pulled her dripping hair off of her neck and nodded at him.

'I do it all the time. Besides, no one is here today.'

'You have clothes with you. Why don't you dress in here?'

'Why don't you?'

'I didn't bring any clothes.'

'Obviously,' she said, laughing softly. He stared at her.

'The Gryffindor dorms are on the seventh floor. You're on the first. Do you really expect to make it all the way back there without being seen?'

'What do you suggest?' She stuck her free hand on her hip, while the other hand clutched the towel to her breast.

'You can dress in my room.' He turned on his heel, and she gave an exasperated sigh before following him. They made it to his room without incident, and as soon as the portrait hole closed behind them, she dropped her towel. She hung it over an empty hook near the door and rummaged through her clothes for her knickers.

He watched her reach for her knickers– black, this time. Before she could pull them on, however, he had crossed the room and grabbed her hand gently. She raised surprised eyes to him.

'You know, Weasley, there's really no hurry to get dressed, is there?' His eyes glittered wildly, and a tingle started in her abdomen. She stood up straight and held his gaze as she undid the tie at his waist, then pushed his robe open.

Her fingers traveled lightly over his chest, exploring it thoroughly. Gooseflesh arose all over his body as she lowered her mouth to kiss his bare shoulder. She pushed the robe all the way off and ran her hands down his arms and back up again.

Her mouth trailed hot kisses down the front of his chest. She flicked her tongue against the skin of his stomach, and slid her hands down to his hips. Her mouth moved lower and lower, until he felt it cover the tip of his erection. He gasped; she was on her knees in front of him, running her tongue along his length.

He tangled his fingers in her hair as she sucked gently, a soft groan escaping his lips. Her tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot and he shuddered. She wrapped slender fingers around the base of his shaft and began to move them slowly as she licked him. He began moving his hips forward to meet her mouth.

She ran her tongue along the head of his erection while she stroked him, and he gasped. His grip on her hair tightened, and suddenly she was on her feet. He pushed her up against the desk that sat behind her, and she wrapped one leg around him as he entered her. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, bracing herself against his thrusts.

She could feel the beginning of her orgasm deep in her abdomen. He plunged in and out of her violently, and the warmth exploded through her system, making her limbs tingle. Moments later, she felt him empty himself inside of her, and his head dropped to her shoulder. After their breathing had steadied, she cleared her throat.

'You know, if you wanted to have sex, you could have just taken me back in the tub,' she said softly. He looked up at her.

'What?'

'You didn't have to get me back here to do it. I would have done it in the tub.'

'I didn't-' he paused. Yes, he could have taken her in the tub. The only thing that had stopped him was the thought that someone might walk in and see them, and he hadn't felt like sharing her today.

Where in the bloody hell had that thought come from?

'I know,' he finally said, moving away from her to pick up his discarded robe. She watched him hang it up next to her towel and walk to his dresser. She headed towards her own clothes and pulled them on, feeling strangely comfortable in his room. She didn't know why she should feel that way; this was only the second time she'd ever been inside of it.

She toweled off her hair just enough to keep it from dripping down her back, and slung the damp towel over her arm. She turned to say goodbye to him, and caught him watching her. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black slacks.

'Going somewhere?' he asked. She arched an eyebrow at him.

'Yes, back to my room.'

'Why would you want to do that, when no one else is there?'

'Well, because I happen to _like_ it when no one else is there,' she pointed out, smiling. 'And it's almost lunch time; you'll be needing to eat soon.'

'Why don't you hang around for a bit?' he suggested silkily. She blinked at him.

'What?'

'In case I need an after-meal snack,' he said. Her stomach pitched forward pleasantly.

'Didn't your parents ever teach you that it's bad for you to snack between meals?'

'I can't recall.'

'You must have a selective memory.'

'No, just a selective palate.' She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, then hung her towel back up.

'Alright. I'll stay, then.' He nodded and went to the fireplace. She watched as he tugged on a silver cord that hung beside it, and suddenly a small house-elf stood in front of him.

'We'd like our lunch brought to us.' The house elf nodded and disappeared. She walked to the bed and sat down, tucking her legs beneath her. He sat down near the head of the bed and stretched his legs out in front of her.

Moments later, the house elf reappeared with a tray full of food in one hand, and a pitcher of pumpkin juice in the other. The tiny creature placed the food on the desk and left. Draco stood and moved to the desk, where he removed a glass from the tray and poured her a drink. She took the glass from him and sipped delicately, trying not to grimace at its sweetness.

He saw the face she pulled, but ignored it. He was not about to let her get away with unsweetened tea and a slice of bread in front of him. He handed her a plate that held two ham sandwiches and several mixed pieces of fruit and vegetables.

He resumed his spot and balanced his full plate on his outstretched legs. He watched as she pushed the food around on her plate, trying to make it look as though she was eating. He chewed on an apple slice as she pressed her lips to the rim of her juice glass, but noticed that the amount of liquid in the glass remained the same. He arched an eyebrow.

She was going to make this difficult.

She was fidgeting quite a bit; doing everything possible to prevent herself from eating. He lifted his glass of juice to his lips and waited until she moved again, at which point he dribbled some of the liquid onto his chest. He sighed loudly and she looked over at him.

'Tsk, tsk, how very clumsy of you, Weasley. Now you'll have to clean it up.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Throw It All Away, Chapter Seven**

She gave him a disbelieving look, then realized that he wasn't kidding. She took advantage of the excuse to put her plate and glass on the floor, then crawled up the bed towards him.

She met his eyes as she bent and licked the sweetness off of his chest.

When she had finished, he held out a strawberry. She eyed it cautiously, and he traced her lips with the tip of it. She bit it, chewing slowly, and watched as he took a bite. When he had finished chewing, he leaned forward and kissed her, sucking gently on her tongue and lips. He pulled away, leaving her breathless.

He picked up a slice of apple and repeated the game. By the time his plate was empty, he had managed to get her to consume three strawberries, two apple slices, one carrot stick, and even a bite of the ham sandwich, a vast improvement from a slice of bread.

'Now,' he said, putting down the glass of juice he'd been holding and looking her over. 'I think I want to deal with a different type of hunger.'

She arched an eyebrow at him and watched as he moved down the bed towards her. He caught her face in his hands, cupping her cheeks as he kissed her. She shivered. His tongue was moving languidly around hers, exploring her mouth softly. She reached forward and rested her hands on his upper thighs, and his kiss became more intense.

He just couldn't seem to get enough of her today.

Maybe it was because he knew that if she wasn't with him in his room, she'd be upstairs, not eating, not sleeping, and not kissing him like this.

He pushed her back gently and trailed tiny kisses down her throat. His lips quickly found their way back to hers, though, and he kissed her wildly. He kissed her hard, trying to quell the urge to consume her. It wasn't working. All he wanted to do was kiss her until her lips were bruised and swollen – a badge to the rest of the students; his way of saying "Draco was here."

After a long snogging session, though, he began to recognize the signs of exhaustion manifesting in her. Her eyes were dilating and her grip on him was not as tight as it had been. He pulled away from her and helped her into a sitting position, then laid his head on his pillow and held his arms out to her. She crawled into them and closed her eyes as he wrapped them around her, and he stayed awake until her breathing had steadied.

It was only then that he allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

Some time later, he awoke to find that she had rolled over. She was facing him. She was still asleep, and her breaths were slow and steady. He grinned at her and brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face.

The motion caused her eyes to flutter open. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, and she glanced around the room. She relaxed a bit when she remembered that she had fallen asleep next to him, then jumped up just as suddenly.

'What time is it?'

'I'm not sure, although I would venture a guess that it's almost time for dinner.' She gave him a panicked look and stood up. She moved to grab her towel, and he sat up quickly. 'What are you doing?'

'Harry will be back any time now. I have to get back up there. Oh, Gods, he's going to know I haven't been in the library because I haven't finished my damned Transfiguration paper!'

'So? Let the Boy Wonder get his underwear in a bunch.'

'Malfoy,' she said, putting her hand on her hip. 'I know you think it's great fun to torture him, but I really try to avoid it as much as humanly possible.' She headed towards the door.

'Maybe you shouldn't,' Draco said. 'I don't want you with him any more.' He paused, surprised at his own words; but now that he had said it, he knew he meant it. She froze in front of the portrait hole, then swung around slowly to stare at him.

'What did you just say?' He stood.

'You heard me.' She blinked, then frowned.

'Malfoy, I don't know where this is coming from, but you can stop it right now. Harry needs me.'

'He _needs_ you?' he asked incredulously. 'Is that why he doesn't notice you except when he's fucking you?' Her face contorted in anger.

'What, you mean like you?'

'If that's what you want to think, I can't stop you.' His voice was cold and hard.

'_Should_ I think anything else?' she asked, an edge to her voice. 'Didn't you just start fucking me to get to Harry anyway?'

'As I recall,' he said in a haughty drawl. 'We'd established that I started fucking you because Potter couldn't satisfy you and you wanted a real man.'

'Alright, then why are you _still_ fucking me?' Ginny held her breath, not willing to think about why his answer was important.

After a long pause, he said neutrally, 'Because I want to.'

'You want to?' she echoed. 'To get to Harry, right?'

'Weasley, you and I both know we are bloody well _not_ thinking about Potter.' She stared at him for a moment, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.

'I… I have to go. Harry…' her voice trailed off, and she turned and ran from the room, leaving Draco staring after her. She ran all the way back to the seventh floor, where she stumbled through the portrait hole, breathless and on the verge of tears.

'Gin! Are you alright?' she turned in surprise at the sound of Harry's voice. 'Is someone chasing you?'

'No!' she said quickly. She bent over and put her hands on her legs as she struggled to catch her breath. 'What are you doing here? I thought you were in Hogsmeade.'

'I came back because I missed you,' he said, frowning. He took in her rumpled state. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were glassy, and her hair was in need of a severe brushing. 'I've been back for almost an hour now. I've been yelling up the stairs for you, and I was just about to storm the dormitory, I was so worried.'

'Well, as you can see, I'm fine,' she said, straightening up. He eyed her face thoughtfully. His gaze dropped down to her neck, and he gasped. She jumped slightly.

'What happened to your neck? Oh, Merlin, you _have_ been attacked!'

'No!' she shouted, holding up her hand. 'I haven't been attacked, I swear!'

'Then what happened? And where were you?' She chose the lesser of two evils and answered his second question.

'I was in the Prefects' bathroom, taking a bath. That's why my hair is wet, see?' she held a barely damp tendril between her trembling fingers.

'Alright, so how did you get those marks?' She opened her mouth to answer him, but no sound came out. Suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled to the floor.

Harry left Ginny with Madam Pomfrey after explaining what had happened, and stormed out of the infirmary. His eyes were wild and darting everywhere; he was a man possessed. He wanted answers, and he was going to get answers.

And he knew just who to ask.

Harry found Malfoy just as he was leaving his room in the dungeon. Malfoy turned when he heard the rustling of fabric. His expectant look quickly faded when he saw Harry charging towards him, and he leaned back against the wall.

'Well, well. To what do I owe the honor of this visit, Scarhead?' he drawled softly.

'What the hell did you do to her?'

'Who?' Draco studied his fingernails as though they were terribly fascinating.

'Ginny!'

'Has someone done something to the Weaselette?'

'Don't screw with me, Malfoy! I know it was you!'

'You know what was me?' he asked, sounding extremely bored.

'Ginny has red marks all over her neck. I know what they are. I'm not stupid.'

'What in the bloody hell are you on about, Pothead?'

'Hickeys, Malfoy. _Hickeys_. Love bites.'

'So your girlfriend has hickeys, big deal. What makes you think they're not from you?'

'Oh, maybe the fact that she won't let me kiss her, for one,' he snarled, missing the flicker of surprise that appeared on Draco's face. 'Or maybe because she hasn't slept with me in almost a week!'

'Oh, so your delusions are stemming from sexual frustration, then? Just get her brother to fill in for her, and leave me be. I have more important things to do.'

'She had another panic attack, Malfoy.'

'And?'

'And she's in the infirmary. This one was bad. It came on really fast, and she still hadn't woken up when I took her down there.'

'And you're telling me this because?'

'You're the one causing the damn attacks!' Harry growled. Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

'I wouldn't be so fucking sure about that if I were you, Potter,' he spat. 'And while we're on the subject of your precious little Princess, if you care so much about her welfare, then why in the bloody hell are you down here with me instead of in the infirmary with her?'

Draco turned and stormed away, leaving Harry to stare incredulously after him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Throw It All Away, Chapter Eight**

Ginny awoke in a strange bed. For a moment, she thought it might be Draco's. That thought faded when she saw the vaulted ceiling and smelled the fresh scent of the sheets she was enveloped in. Draco's sheets smelled like his aftershave; spicy and exotic. She closed her eyes and pressed a trembling hand to her dampened forehead.

Thank God that the panic attack had at least had the mercy to rescue her from something for once, instead of creating a scene. She didn't really care if Harry saw the marks Draco had left on her; they were hers, and something she was almost proud of.

Undoubtedly they would be the only lasting thing she would ever have of Draco.

She slapped her hand to her forehead and winced. She had to get those kinds of thoughts out of her head, she _had_ to. She had gone into this thing not wanting anything long-term with Slytherin's Silver Prince. All she had wanted was someone to hurt her enough to make her feel again.

Well, she had to give him full marks. He'd definitely snapped her out of her stupor.

She rolled onto her stomach and exhaled slowly. She wished there was something she could do to control the damned panic attacks, or at least figure out what was at the heart of them. She'd never had any of these damnable things before this year.

And then there was Draco.

What the hell was going on between the two of them, anyway?

Her stomach gave a tiny jolt at the thought of him. It had been a nearly perfect day for her. They had been alone, relaxing in the bath together. He'd even joked with her and laughed. She smiled into the pillow at the memory of it.

The sex was good, there was no question about that. But then, it was Malfoy, after all; she expected that he excelled at just about whatever he engaged in. Today, though – today it had almost felt normal, like a _real_relationship.

Like the one she'd always wanted with Harry.

The thought was enough to make her head start pounding again.

What the hell had he meant by his last comment, anyway? They hadn't been talking about Harry? What _had_ he been talking about, then? She knew he didn't care about her, past the sex.

Did he?

And better yet, did she care about him?

She groaned in frustration. Why must she start overanalyzing things now? She and Malfoy had had a perfect arrangement until this point. Meet, fuck, leave. No strings attached. Damn it all to hell – she _was_ attached. She ached for his hands on her when he wasn't near. She thought of him when Harry was pumping away on top of her.

Oh, shit.

Her world came crashing down around her shoulders.

She bloody well _cared_ about Draco effing Malfoy.

Sweet Christ.

That was it. She had to stop seeing him. She couldn't be near anyone she cared about like that. After all, she had thought she cared about Harry, and look how that had backfired.

Then again, she had been sleeping with Malfoy well before this epiphany occurred.

Why was she agonizing over this? It was Draco Malfoy, after all. The man didn't care about anyone but himself. She breathed a ragged breath. Yes, it was good that the man was an emotional graveyard. No, it wasn't good that she had these muddled feelings for him. She bit down hard on her lip, yearning for a distraction from this line of thinking.

_Careful what you wish for, Weaselette._

'Gin, are you awake?' Harry's voice broke into her thoughts. She bit harder on her lip and tasted blood.

'Yes,' she mumbled into the pillow. She was not going to turn over and look at him. _Will not will not will not._

'Can we talk?'

'Harry, I really don't feel like it right now.'

'It's really important.'

'Fine,' she sighed, hugging the pillow tighter to her face. She felt a gentle hand brushing the hair away from her neck, and heard his sharp intake of breath. What was he- _Oh._

Oh, bugger.

She sat up and let her thick curtain of hair swirl around her shoulders, then raised her eyes defiantly to meet his. He was angry; she could see that by the way he clenched his fists at his sides. She could also see the hurt and confusion etched on his face. She sighed, feeling deflated as she did.

Perhaps the best thing to do would be to admit to seeing someone else, and allow him the dignity of dumping her. At least then she would be the one everyone hated, and not him.

Then again, knowing Harry, he'd want a name, and she wasn't going to give him one. She didn't want to, and she didn't need to. Why twist the knife she'd already plunged into his back?

'Who is he?' Trust Harry to cut right to the chase on the one occasion in his life when she'd expected him to beat around the bush.

'Who is who?' she asked tiredly.

'The guy who gave you those,' he said, gesturing his closed fist towards her neck.

'No one of consequence,' she sighed, rubbing her eyes.

'Right,' he spat. 'If he wasn't, then you would have given me his name.'

'Harry, I'm not going to give you any names. You'd just go and start a fight, and you'd get in loads of trouble for it. I'm not going to be a party to that. If he wants to come and confess to you, that's his prerogative.'

'How long has it been happening?'

'What?' She was finding it hard to maintain her concentration. Her pulse was starting to speed up, and her heart was pounding uncomfortably hard in her chest.

'How long have you been letting him kiss you?' he raged. She blinked.

'Not long,' she said honestly. Draco really hadn't been kissing her as long as they'd been having sex. It was a half-truth, but Harry seemed to be believing it.

'Is this why you've been having the panic attacks?'

'No. I was having them before he kissed me.'

'Is he a Gryffindor?'

'Harry-' she rolled her eyes and gripped the side of the bed as a strong wave of nausea washed over her. Sweat broke out on her upper lip, and she was beginning to feel very warm.

'I just want to know if the person you're cheating with has been sleeping in the same dorm with me!' he yelled.

'Please, just go away,' she whispered, struggling to catch her breath. He stared at her.

'Did you sleep with him?'

'Harry-'

'Did you sleep with him?' he screamed. She clutched a hand to her chest.

'Yes!' she yelled back. 'Yes, I slept with him! Are you happy now?' He looked stricken.

'How many times?'

'Enough!'

'How much is that?'

'More than I've slept with you!' The words had slipped out before she could stop them. He gaped at her.

'So you've been avoiding me this week for this other guy,' his voice was soft, and she nodded, feeling sweat trickle down the side of her face.

'Gods, Harry, can we please wait and finish this after I've rested some more?' she begged. She was going to throw up if he didn't leave her alone. He shook his head.

'No. I want you to tell me you're never going to see him again.' She stared at him incredulously, forgetting about the nausea that was causing her stomach to roil unpleasantly.

'What?'

'You heard me. My girlfriend is not going to cheat on me anymore.'

'Your what?' she shrieked, her voice tinged with hysteria. 'Harry, I _fucked_ another man! Several _hundred_ times! And I enjoyed every moment of it thoroughly! I even kissed him, and let him kiss me – and you _know_, and you're still talking like we're going to be together!"

'I love you, Ginny,' he said vehemently. 'And I'm not going to let you go this easily!'

'Some love you feel there, Potter, when you don't even see that the girl is making herself ill.' Ginny and Harry both turned surprised eyes to see Draco leaning casually against the doorjamb.

'What the hell are you doing here?' Harry raged, his face turning scarlet. 'And what the hell are you talking about?'

'I'm talking about Weasley refusing to eat.'

'What?' Harry blinked. Ginny glared at him.

'Draco, what in Merlin's name are you doing?'

'_Draco?'_ Harry asked, startled. He stared at her, then looked back at Malfoy, whose expression was blank. He narrowed his eyes and let out a low hiss.

'You love her so much, do you?' Draco asked calmly, striding towards them. He ignored Harry's glare. 'Then why is it that she's lost so much weight in the last few months, and you haven't even noticed? You're too damn busy being the president of Potterville to pay attention to the woman you love. If that's love, I want no part of it.'

'No one asked you to have any part in it,' Harry hissed through clenched teeth. Ginny had gone rigid and was staring at Draco with an unreadable expression.

'Tell me, Potter,' he drawled softly. 'Where were you during all of those panic attacks?' Harry blinked, then frowned.

'She hasn't had that many.'

'The hell you say,' Draco said, sounding almost amused. 'So they only count if you pull your head out of your arse long enough to see what's right in front of you?'

'Make your point and get the hell away from us, Malfoy,' Harry snarled.

'Stop it already, both of you!' Ginny fumed. Both the boys turned to stare at her. 'You're both amazing me with your consideration! I'm on the verge of another attack, and you're fighting over ignoring the damn things! Does that make any sense to either of you?'

'Ginny, is Malfoy the one you've been seeing? Please tell me that you would not stoop so low as to let Malfoy put his arrogant paws all over you!'

'Paws?' Draco asked, arching an eyebrow. 'Are you suggesting that I'm an animal?'

'If the shoe fits, Malfoy.'

'I suppose I _can_ be an animal in bed, wouldn't you say, Weasley?' he turned amused eyes to her, and she glared at him. Harry gasped.

'Get out,' she hissed dangerously. 'Both of you, get out, and leave me alone.'

'We'll finish this in the common room,' Harry promised. Ginny wanted to scream.

'No, we most certainly will not! We are finished now!' Draco smirked at Harry, and Ginny turned to him. 'And you can wipe that look off of your face, Draco, because we're finished too!' He arched an eyebrow at her, and shrugged coolly.

'I was about finished with you, anyway.' He turned and walked away, his robe billowing behind him Ginny didn't wait for Harry to leave before she turned and threw herself face-first on the bed.

Three days had passed since the infamous breakup of the famous Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley.

No one in her house had spoken to her since she'd returned from the infirmary, which was all right by her.

Harry had been trying to make her jealous all day. When he saw her coming, he would laugh louder than was called for, or make raucous comments about sex. She ignored him as best she could, realizing that his actions were strictly a result of the hurt she'd inflicted.

Draco was another story.

Draco had never paid much attention to her to begin with, so it came as little surprise to her when he just fell back into his old pattern of behavior and ignored her. He still insulted her and made biting comments like he used to, with one exception.

Now she fired them right back at him.

The first time she did it, she could taste the surprise that emanated from him. The second time, she wondered if he was simply testing to see if she was going to do it again. Subsequent times began to feel like a battle of wills.

And she'd be damned if she was going to back down.

To be perfectly honest, there wasn't anyone she didn't snap at when they spoke to her, with the exception of teachers. Even then she'd gotten somewhat cheeky with Snape on several occasions, only to be rewarded with concurrent detentions.

That was just as well, since it kept her away from those blasted giggling girls that shared the dorm with her.

She was finding it much easier to stomach food now, although she still wasn't eating the way she had before Harry. She was up to sweetened tea, a slice of buttered bread, and a half of an apple. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning.

For some reason, she just couldn't bring herself to even look at the strawberries.

Sleep was another, and altogether more difficult, matter.

Her dorm mates would wait until she had drawn her curtains, at which point they would commence giggling and whispering. One night when she had had more than enough of listening to their speculation about Harry's rumored sexual prowess, she shoved the curtains of her bed back and shouted, 'His body's decent enough, but his idea of a good fuck is to pump for two minutes, groan and then go to sleep. Now that you know, can you shut up so I can sleep?'

They had been eerily silent ever since.

Ginny was feeling much better. She was being a tad bit snarky to everyone around her, but then, turnabout was fair play. They were all being snarky to her on Harry's behalf.

After the first week, Harry had begun avoiding her at all costs. She guessed that someone had told him about her middle-of-the-night outburst. The thought made her laugh. She laughed at the concerned letter that came from home, and neglected to answer it for an entire week, before simply telling her Mum that she and Harry had broken up.

She laughed when a third year timidly approached her and asked her out. She'd asked him if someone had told him she was easy. When he didn't answer, she told him that everyone she'd ever slept with had said that she was so cold, they'd gotten frostbite.

He'd run away as fast as his little legs could carry him.

She stopped laughing, however, when she heard people beginning to whisper about the man she'd cheated on Harry with.

Rumors were flying everywhere. She heard several different versions, all of which were very entertaining. She had seduced the Creevey brothers. Shad had seduced Seamus. She had attacked Dean. The names changed, the seduction remained her doing. She had seduced nearly every male in Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff by the end of the week.

The rumors stopped being amusing when they turned to Slytherin house.

She was bent over a Charms Essay in the library when she heard the first one. Somewhere behind her, she heard loud whispers. She heard her name, but ignored the noise until she heard Draco's name added to the conversation. Her ears perked up.

'The mermaid portrait in the Prefects' bathroom told me she's seen them together in there before.' Ginny groaned silently. _Damned portraits!_

'Did she say anything else, like what she saw them doing?' another voice asked eagerly. Ginny had just about had enough. She closed her book and was about to go and set them straight when a third voice joined the fray.

'And what are we discussing today, ladies?' the smooth drawl interjected. 'Surely it wouldn't be my love life _again, _would it?' Ginny could almost hear the girls squirming.

"N-No,' a voice stuttered. 'We were… we were…'

'Just talking about the Weasley girl,' the other girl piped up.

'And what of her?' he purred. She bit her lip to keep from laughing; she could hear the amusement in his voice at making the girls uncomfortable. She understood; she was enjoying it, too.

'We were just… wondering who she'd cheated on Harry with.' Ginny winced. Even she knew better than to talk to Draco about Harry like that.

'And what have you concluded that brought my name into the conversation?'

'N-Nothing,' the first girl stammered again.

'Next time, I suggest you keep your nothing to yourself, then. And if you want to know who I've had sex with, ask me. I'd be more than happy to fill your little virgin ears.' She heard the girls scurry away, and she stifled her laughter by clamping a hand over her mouth.

'I fail to see what is so damned funny about this situation,' he drawled softly. She turned and dropped her hand, laughing openly. She gathered her books.

'Yes, well, you would, wouldn't you?' She shoved her quill into her backpack and picked up her robe.

'Hasn't Potter forgiven you yet?' he asked lazily. She turned and stared at him. 'The boy really has too much of a saintly streak in him not to come begging you for your hand back.'

'Even if he did,' she said, her voice dropping. 'I wouldn't have him. And he knows it.'

'You'd go back to him just to put an end to the rumors circulating about you and I.'

'Well, considering that until your little interlude not even five minutes ago, I hadn't heard anything specifically mentioning you and I, that seems a little farfetched.'

'Rumor has it that you've shagged half of the school,' he said, studying her face intently.

'I know,' she said, shrugging. 'Actually, I'm surprised you haven't told more people that you'd screwed my brains out… then again, I suppose you can't, can you? Considering that I'm a filthy muggle-lover, and all.' She laughed.

'So who _are_ you shagging?' She gave him an incredulous look.

'Since you're so interested, no one.'

'I find that very hard to believe, considering you were getting it at least five nights a week from me, and Potter was poking you as well on some of those nights.'

'I don't give a rat's ass _what_ you believe,' she said, her cheeks flushing.

'Obviously, and that's why you're getting so worked up over it, right?' he smirked. She pursed her lips and gave him a very irritated look.

'It's none of your business who I choose to shag, Draco. You don't own me.'

'Don't I?' he said, stepping close enough that she could feel the heat from his body. He raised a hand and trailed the tip of a finger down her neck to push aside her robe and expose a particularly stubborn love bite that could still be seen in the hollow of her throat. 'Are you sure?'

She closed her eyes for a moment, shivering at his light touch. Just as suddenly, she pulled away, realizing what she was doing. She was letting him draw her in.

'Leave me alone, Draco.' Before he could answer, she turned and broke into a run.


	9. Chapter 9

**Throw It All Away, Chapter Nine**

_Something's wrong with your mind_

_It won't think of me anymore_

_Was it all a waste of time_

_Tell me why was I such a chore_

_Today was that day_

_It was that time_

_And that was all that she wrote for me_

_You fell away_

_I don't know why_

_And that was all that she wrote for me_

_Lying here in bed_

_The one that you liked to do it in_

_Pieces of long red hair_

_Are all over it and still in my brain_

_I can't explain_

_What it's like not knowing if I'll ever cross your mind_

_~Default, "All She Wrote"_

Ginny had had enough.

She was tired of not being given the same respect that Harry was being offered. He'd gotten his wish – finally people had stopped talking about him and following him.

They had moved their target to her back instead.

She headed down to the Great Hall early, in an effort to avoid as many people as possible. She had essays to complete and a wicked difficult potion to memorize for Monday's quiz, and she was in no mood to listen to the ever-turning wheels of the gossip mill. She had almost reached the large oak doors when a hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

She was very surprised to come face to face with her ex boyfriend.

He looked much worse for the wear.

'Gin, can we talk?' the miserable note in his voice did nothing to soften her heart towards him, but she nodded mutely. She folded her arms over her chest and eyed him, waiting for him to talk.

'I've been miserable without you,' he said simply, his arms dropping limply by his sides. 'Things just aren't the same.'

'You've been miserable, have you?' she asked, her voice clipped. 'And I suppose that's why I've been hearing that you've had to fight the girls away with a broomstick, and that's why you've been egging on the rumors about who I've shagged?'

'What?' he asked, his eyes widening. 'I haven't!'

'No? I seem to recall hearing Colin Creevey relating your story of catching me in the act with Terry effing Boot!' Pink spots rose on her cheeks, and he sighed.

'I was upset.'

'Oh, the great Harry Potter was upset, so of course anything he does is all right,' Ginny sneered.

'Merlin, Ginny, how much time did you spend with that bastard? You're even making the same faces he makes!'

'How much time I spent – or _spend_ – with anyone is no longer any of your concern, Harry Potter!'

'Are you telling me that you're still seeing him?' he shrieked.

'I'm telling you no such thing, not that it's any of your business!'

'So basically he just used you for sex, and once he'd gotten to me, he dropped you?' he laughed bitterly.

'Don't be so bloody egotistical, Harry. Not everyone does things just to get to you.'

'Egotistical? You're calling_ me_ egotistical?'

'I believe that I just did, yeah.' She put her hands on her hips and stared at him.

'Ginny, I didn't want to start a fight. I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry I reacted the way I did, and I still love you and want to be with you.'

'Oh, I'm melting into a puddle on the floor!' she said exaggeratedly, pretending to swoon. 'Saint Potter has come to forgive me!'

'Why are you acting like this? This isn't you!'

'How would you know?' She snapped. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but someone beat him to it.

'The girl has a point, Potter,' his soft drawl came from nearby. Ginny turned to see Draco leaning against the wall several feet away from her. 'How can you tell her that it isn't her, when you ignored her for the entire time you dated her?'

'Oh, how precious is this going to get?' Harry asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 'My enemy telling me that I don't know my own girlfriend.'

'Ex,' she said angrily.

'If you didn't ignore her and you know her as you claim you do, then explain to me why you never noticed her weight loss.'

'Explain to me why _you_ did,' Harry shot back.

'Unlike you, Potter, I pay attention to the women I sleep with, instead of just rutting away on top of them.' A gasp went up from the small group of students that had gathered around them, and Harry stared at him.

'Do you realize what you've just done, you pillock?' He laughed. 'You've just admitted that you slept with her. A _Weasley,_ Malfoy!'

'Not _a_ Weasley, _Ginny_ Weasley. Maybe thinking they're all interchangeable is why you were so inadequate that she needed to find a real man.' he drawled lazily. Ginny was staring at him.

'You know that when Daddy finds out, you'll be disinherited. Not to mention what your little cronies are going to say.'

'My father, Potter, is in Azkaban. I should think you'd remember that tiny detail, considering that you're the one who put him there. As to my cronies,' he said arrogantly. 'They have no say as to who I choose to devote my time to.'

'This is insane!' Harry choked out. 'The two of you screw a few times, and you're ready to announce it to the school? Was the sex really that good?' Draco met Ginny's eyes.

'Do you really want me to answer that, Harry?' she asked softly, still looking at Draco.

'What in the bloody hell is going on here?' Ron asked, pushing his way through the crowd. He stood between Harry and Ginny, then glared at Malfoy.

'Your sister was just making a spectacle of herself with her _lover_,' Harry hissed. Ron's eyes widened, and he looked between his sister and Draco, who didn't seem bothered in the least by the students gathering around them.

'Her what?' He turned to Ginny, who finally tugged her eyes away from Draco's and looked at her brother. 'What is Harry talking about?'

'I cheated on Harry, Ron. That's what caused our breakup.'

'One of the many reasons,' Draco interjected, sounding bored.

'What?' Ron asked, his eyes widening. 'Like what?'

'Let's see, where to begin?' he drawled softly, lifting his fingers to tick things off. 'He ignored her. He used her as a trophy. He didn't know about her panic attacks. He was horrible in bed… Have anything to add, Ginny?' Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of her name dripping from his lips. Ron turned to Harry with a red face.

'You slept with my sister?' his ears were fuchsia. He turned back to Ginny. 'And you're having panic attacks?'

'Honestly, with the attention you people pay to her, it's no wonder she turned to me.'

'Shut your bloody gob, you cocky prat!' Harry hissed.

'Quit jumping on Draco!' she fumed, stomping her foot. All eyes turned to her in surprise. 'It's not his damned fault! **I** went to _him._ I threw myself at him!'

'He didn't have to take advantage of you!' Harry yelled.

'He didn't! When are you going to open your eyes and see that he didn't? I was not in a fragile state when I went to him, I knew exactly what I was doing!'

Ron turned his attention to Ginny, looking at her closely. 'You're too thin.'

'Exactly,' Malfoy said, annoyed. 'Took you long enough to notice. Apart from when she was in my room, she's been calling a single slice of bread a meal.' Harry's mouth fell open.

'When she was where?'

'Potter, close your mouth. Yes, she was in my room. You'll live, I'm sure,' he said dryly. 'As much as some of us might wish otherwise. You're good at that.'

'Why, you-' Harry lunged forward, but Ginny stepped in front of him. His chest made contact with hers, and they both tumbled to the ground.

'Potter, you imbecile!' Draco bent and pushed Harry away, cradling Ginny's face between his hands and inspecting her for signs of injury. He turned steely eyes to Harry, who was scrambling to his feet. 'Are you _entirely_incapable of thinking, or do you get some kind of twisted entertainment from hurting those around you with your stupidity?'

'Twisted entertainment?' Harry echoed. 'You mean like bedding your enemy's girlfriend for the simple fact of who she's dating? Is that your idea of fun?'

'Potter, you are very much mistaken if you think that you are in _any way_ in my thoughts when I'm bedding someone,' Draco sneered.

'Hello, I'm still here!' Ginny yelled. Draco stood and helped her to her feet. 'I do have a brain, Harry, and a will of my own! How many times do I have to tell you that I went to him, and not the other way around?'

'You don't care that he was just sleeping with you to hurt me?'

'You keep repeating this idea, Potter,' Draco said, resuming his bored look. 'If I was bedding her to get to you, then why didn't I tell you about it the first time that it happened?'

'You wanted to see how long you could keep her. The longer she slept with you, the more it would get to me. Besides, why else would you sleep with Ginny?' Harry retorted angrily.

'Maybe because she's damn hot, and she's a wildcat in bed,' Draco said with a leer. 'Or maybe just because I wanted to, and a Malfoy gets what he wants.'

'You think my sister is hot?' Ron asked, looking more revolted than offended. Ginny almost wanted to laugh at the insanity of it all. Draco Malfoy was calling her hot, she was rejecting Harry, and her brother hadn't attacked either one of them yet. Not to mention that half of the Hogwarts student body was watching them.

'What is going on here?' Professor McGonagall demanded, pushing her way through the crowd. Ginny saw Harry about to say something, but jumped in before he could.

'Absolutely nothing,' she said. McGonagall eyed Draco, then looked at Harry, who was gaping openly at Ginny.

'Well, wrap up absolutely nothing, and be on your way. You're preventing hungry students from reaching their dinner.'

'Yes, Professor,' she said, nodding. 'There's nothing left to say, is there?' she asked, turning away from Harry. The students began to disperse, and Ginny hooked her arm through Ron's. 'Hungry?' With that, she led him into the Great Hall. Harry snorted furiously and headed back towards the stairs.

'Ginny, talk to me,' he said, sitting down beside her. His brow was furrowed in concern. 'Did you really shag Malfoy?' he winced as he said it. She took a deep breath, then turned to him.

'Yes, I did, Ron.' There was no point in lying about it, or sugar-coating it. Just then Hermione came rushing into the Great Hall, her bushy hair crackling with static electricity, and her eyes wild.

'Ginny, are you alright? I was on the way here from the library when I heard that there was something going on in front of the Great Hall, and-' she sat down when she saw the green tint of Ron's face. 'What's happened?'

'I've been sleeping with Malfoy,' Ginny said quietly, meeting Hermione's eyes. She closed her mouth and thought for a moment before responding.

'For how long?'

'Ever since we started school.'

'Does Harry know?' Ron shot her a look that clearly told her she'd asked a stupid question. 'Well, how is he handling it?'

'Not well, considering that Malfoy just announced it to half the school,' Ron said, pouring Ginny a glass of pumpkin juice. She stared apprehensively at it, then picked it up and took a sip.

'He did what?' Hermione asked, her jaw dropping. 'He must really care about you, then.' Ginny's eyes snapped up, and she gave Hermione a wry smile. Ron began piling food on her plate, and she stared at him.

'Ron, you can't possibly expect me to eat all of that!' She turned to Hermione. 'It's a nice thought, but that's all it is. He got to Harry through me, and got laid in the process.'

'You'd better get to work, Gin. If it takes all night, you're going to eat every bite of food on that plate. And if you don't,' he said, his voice dropping. 'I'll feed it to you myself.' She glared at him, and tiny spots of pink arose on her cheeks at the memory of someone else feeding her.

'In any case,' Ginny said, ignoring her brother and picking up a fork. 'I don't think Harry and I will be talking anytime soon.' She forced a forkful of peas into her mouth.

'He'll probably be miffed at me, as well,' Ron said, spooning Shepherd's Pie onto his plate. 'For not siding with him, I mean.'

'Ginny is your sister, Ron. I don't think he'd expect you to turn on her.'

'Yes, but Malfoy is Harry's enemy,' Ron pointed out shrewdly. 'He's going to be mad because taking Gin's side is like taking Malfoy's side.'

'That is a very warped way of thinking, Ron Weasley,' Hermione said, rolling her eyes. He grinned.

'Thanks. I think.' He turned to make sure Ginny was still eating. She was staring at the plate in front of her, frowning.

'Ron,' she said, turning to him. 'If you want to side with Harry, I'll understand. You know I'd forgive you because you're my brother. Harry might not be so obliging.' He gave her a stern look.

'If you're able to talk nonsense, that means you've got room in your mouth for more food,' he pointed out. She smiled and turned back to her plate.

'Are you and Malfoy going to date now?' Hermione asked. Ron choked on his mouthful.

'Since when have you known Draco to date?' Ginny asked, highly amused.

'You've got a point,' Hermione agreed. They ate the rest of their meal in silence, with the exception of Ron's occasional 'eat-that-last-bite-or-I'll-make-you' interjection. When dinner was over, Ginny had eaten all of her peas, two rolls, and two pieces of fried chicken.

Ron and Hermione walked her back to Gryffindor Tower, ready to intercede if Harry decided to do something rash. Much to her relief, Harry had already gone to bed. Ginny, however, didn't want to remain in the dorms and be on the receiving end of pointless questions about her and Draco.

She kissed her brother, ignoring his blush, and hugged Hermione, before heading up to the Astronomy Tower. The fresh air would do her some good, and it had been a while since she'd been up there with the sole purpose of stargazing.

She made her way slowly to one of the stone windowsills and peered over it. Hundreds of stars were spread across the inky sky. She sighed and rested her elbows on the ledge. She was surprised when she felt someone suddenly standing next to her, and turned her head. Draco mirrored her stance and rested his elbows on the sill next to hers, barely touching her.

'Miss me yet, Weasley?' She smirked at him.

'Only as much as you miss me, Malfoy.'

'Every minute of the day, then?' Her eyes widened and her retort died on her lips. She stared at him.

'Something like that,' she whispered. He turned his eyes to her.

'You know,' he said softly, his voice washing over her. 'I never did think you and Potter were a very good match.'

'Why is that?'

'You have far too much spirit to be tied down by The Boy Who Lived To Annoy Me.' She laughed.

'And this is why I am a free spirit, going where the wind blows me,' she said, a bitter edge to her voice.

'I wouldn't say that,' Draco said. 'Although if you lose any more weight, the wind really will carry you off.'

'Prat.'

'Toothpick.'

'Git.'

'Wench.'

'Thanks.' She drummed her fingers absentmindedly on the stones until he reached out and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. She shot him an odd look. 'Is this a romantic gesture, Draco Malfoy?'

'No. I simply did not wish to be annoyed by that infernal sound you were making.' She stuck her tongue out at him, and suddenly found his lips on hers. His mouth was gentle, barely pressing against hers, and his tongue swept softly across her bottom lip before he pulled away. 'You asked for that, you know.'

'I did?'

'Yes, you did.'

'How do I ask for more?' He arched an eyebrow at her, then disentangled his fingers from hers. He raised his hands to cup her cheeks gently and brushed his lips against hers. She raised her arms and clasped her hands behind his neck, shivering when he pried her lips apart with his tongue.

His tongue swept over hers, tasting her slowly. Her head was beginning to feel thick. His hands slipped from her cheeks to the back of her head, and he stroked the back of her neck lightly with his thumb. She moaned softly, and he pulled away slightly.

'Weasley, how am I supposed to stop at just kissing you if you insist on making those damned alluring noises?' She gave a soft laugh, and he pressed his forehead against hers. 'Why didn't you kiss Potter?'

'What?' she asked, surprised.

'Potter told me you never let him kiss you. Why?'

'Oh,' she said, sighing. 'It just felt wrong. Actually, I didn't feel anything at all for him. That's why it would have been wrong. At least between you and I, there was passion. Besides, I kind of missed it.'

'You forgot that I'm really good at it,' he grinned. She laughed again.

'Did you think I was going to actually say that and stroke your ego?'

'I know something else you can stroke.'

'Gah!' she rolled her eyes in exasperation, and he laughed.

'You're right. There's plenty of time for that later. What I want to know right now is how you managed to eat two whole pieces of chicken.' She groaned.

'Oh, food. Don't mention food, it's making me feel nauseous.' She clamped a hand over her mouth, then gave him a curious look. 'How did you know that I hadn't been eating?'

'I watched you,' he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

'Why did you care?'

'I don't know. I just did.' And, after a moment of hesitation, 'I still do.'

'You... You do?' she asked, staring up at him with wide eyes.

'I just said I did, didn't I? I don't make a habit of lying.' She just kept staring at him, until he said, 'Weasley, this is your cue to say you care about me in return. Do keep up.'

'Do you want me to care about you?' she asked softly.

'Don't be thick, Weasel,' he said. 'Why else would I be having this discussion with you?'

'I think,' she said slowly. 'That we might get along a little bit better if you stopped calling me Weasel.'

'But why go and take all the fun out of it?' he asked dryly. She smiled at him before planting a soft kiss on his lips, and pulling away just enough to look into his eyes.

'Yes, Draco,' she whispered, her breath warm on his lips. 'I care about you. More than I probably should.'

'Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way,' he said, leaning in for another kiss. Her fingers tangled in the back of his hair, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. His mouth moved gently over hers, and she shivered.

She was thoroughly enjoying his attentions when the sound of someone coughing made him stop and look up in annoyance. She tried to turn, but his arms were still wrapped tightly around her waist.

'Sorry, I didn't know you weren't here alone, Ginny,' Hermione said, her face flushing. She averted her eyes, and Ginny hit her forehead lightly against Draco's shoulder before smiling at her friend.

'Did you need something?'

'Ron just wanted me to come and see when you're coming back. He's snuck down to the kitchen to pinch you a snack.'

'She's going to be a while,' Draco said throatily, his thumb stroking the small of her back. 'If not all night.' Hermione turned scarlet and nodded before turning and practically running from the room. Ginny looked up at him.

'You are extremely self-confident, aren't you?'

'I've got reason to be.'

'What makes you think I'd spend an entire night with you?'

'Because I want you to.' She arched an eyebrow. 'And because I'm asking you to… Ginny.'

'That's a good boy,' she laughed, patting his cheek teasingly. He gave her a wicked grin.

'Just don't get used to it.'

**FIN**


End file.
